ELSEWHERE
by bulbus
Summary: Clark is pulled into a parallel world where everything he knows and loves has been taken away from him. Can he save it all and still find a way home?
1. Just a Dream

Updated: 5/4/03  
Smallville: ELSEWHERE  
  
By Peter Amico Note: I don't own a bit of the rights to Smallville, so don't flame me, or be an idiot about this. This story is written in fun and that's it. Enjoy  
  
Prologue  
  
The ship was clearly not of human origin. Perhaps six feet in length and oblong, it hurtled through the recesses of space without any obvious means of propulsion. A spherical bulge towards the back dominated most of the ship, with the front tapering off to a long point. Its hull was silver, unmarked, and seamless. It moved with a grace and speed that was impossible for modern human crafts. Even more impossible was how far it had come, and for what purpose.  
  
Inside the ship, a small child slept dreamlessly, though not soundly. Voices and faces floated on the edge of his mind, some more familiar and distinct than others. As he slept, he almost remembered what they meant, but then the thought was gone. He had been asleep for a long while, frozen in time. He would not have survived the trip if he had not been. He had come a long way from a world he could never go back to.  
  
As the ship passed around the dark side of the moon and into the sun's light again, a remarkable change occurred inside the craft. The sphere's upper hull became transparent, allowing the star's light to bathe the child. He shifted idly in his sleep, stretching out in the warmth. The gentle hum of the ship reverberated inside the dome, quieting his sleep. He could feel the sun's rays on his skin, revitalizing him. It was so different from the light of his home, richer and fuller in some fashion. Though he did not know, could not know, the light of this star had been the reason for his destination. It would feed him, make him stronger and faster than any other creature he would meet when his ship landed on the tiny planet that was its destination. It had been imagined that he would be like a god to them, descending from the heavens with fire and glory. He would have power, knowledge from behind the stars, everything that he would need to lead those lesser than him to glory.  
  
If the child thought about the future that awaited him, it didn't seem to bother him. He lowed peacefully in the light of the star, stretching out quietly. Then the hull abruptly darkened again as other objects appeared beside it.  
  
Meteorites hurtled by the small craft, caught in the gravity of the blue planet that was the ship's destination. The fragments were dark and jagged hunks of stone, shot through with streaks of a green, glowing crystal vein. As the green light reached the craft, it seemed to shudder and then began to shine with a brilliant white light of its own. The meteorites passed around the ship wildly, bumping and crashing into one another. Harsh dust and other small particles from the collisions clattered across the hull of the ship, but it held its course, only veering now and then to avoid running into one of the larger fragments. One of the meteorites smashed through a tiny satellite orbiting the planet, adding to the debris caught up in its wake.  
  
As the ship and the meteorites passed into the edges of the planet's atmosphere, the friction raised the temperature outside to incredible levels. Some of the smaller meteorites burned away in brilliant flashes of light, but the larger rocks kept going. The heat around them produced some startling changes in the green crystal veins though. Some of the stones fused and took on different colors, some red, others gold, and even blue. As the intense heat converted them, the stones began flashing wildly and sending out arcing bursts of energy into space. The ship meanwhile, rode out the heat without incident, the extreme temperature somehow being reflected by the skin of the craft. Inside, the child slept through it, hardly noticing any difference.  
  
But then something unexpected happened.  
  
A fragment broke off from a meteorite and, with the intense heat and force already buffeting it, the ship couldn't swerve to avoid it. The chunk of rock, perhaps no more than ten inches across, shattered against the right edge of the ship and pushed it off course. The change was minute, not even a degree, a second's, difference in fact.  
  
But it was enough.  
  
The ship hurtled through the air, descending into the inner atmosphere of the planet. Still on fire, it streaked over a vast body of water. Along side it flew the meteorites, which depending on their weight and path of entry, began to disperse over the planet. A large number still fell along side the ship, pulled along in its wake. The water underneath it gave way to a gentle, rolling land as the ship began its descent. The child was awake now, the roaring and shaking bringing him out of his deep sleep. He clutched the sides of his pod, suddenly afraid for the first time in his life. Something was wrong, he could feel it in the tremor of the ship. Something had gone wrong.  
  
Indeed, something had. The ship was still going too fast. It passed over the abandoned field which its creator had deemed safe and isolated enough from his vantage point, so long and far ago. It tried to begin a turn that would put it back on course, but momentum had hold of it now and there was no going back. It darted through the air above fields and homes, coming in for a crash landing. The engines, preset to fire and slow the landing, tried to compensate, but the ship was still going too fast. This had not been planned on and the ship could not respond. It obliterated the first house it passed through, and then another, and another, and another. The child began to scream, calling out in a strange tongue for someone, anyone. Completely out of control, the ship tumbled and rolled, destroying everything in its path until it struck the pavement of a broad street and smashed deep into the ground. The hull, which had weathered the gravity and intense heat of countless suns, buckled finally and cracked in.  
  
For a moment, there was silence. Then the tiny pod, tried beyond all the plans of its maker, slowly opened the spherical pod with a screech. Even as it did, the computers that had governed its flight and controlled the sleep of its passenger blinked and died out. The child opened his eyes and stared out, at first too frightened to move. He stared at his strange surroundings, so different from his dim memories of the past. Then slowly, he climbed out of the pod.  
  
The ground was hot to the touch, but he barely noticed. He gazed around, taking in the devastation around him. Then there was noise, people shouting and crying out and pointing at him. He turned, staring at them. They looked familiar, but were not, he knew. He could sense that, they were different. He was alone here. Then a great roaring came from overhead and they all looked up, human and alien alike, as the meteorites passed above them, burning with fire and wrath.  
  
A strangely adult thought passed through his young mind. Nothing would ever be the same here, he thought. Not for anyone. 


	2. Welcome to Smallville

Updated: 5/4/03 Chapter 1  
  
Clark woke up and it was several moments before he could even remember where he was. He got up slowly and turned on the lamp by his bed, the sudden light making him blink his eyes quickly. He was in his room at the farm, his school books piled on his desk with the notes he had been going over the night before. A Smallville High jacket was curled over his chair, looking weathered and a bit beaten, the white faded and no longer the bright color he remembered from last year. He rubbed his forehead briefly and then got up stretching.  
  
The dream had been so real, he thought quietly. Disturbingly real. He threw back his covers and climbed out of bed, stretching. Clark didn't dream very often; not even about a certain dark-haired beauty he knew. Sometimes he dreamed about strange buildings and nonsense words that didn't make any sense. He'd never put any thought into his dreams before though. He left that for his mother, a great believer in dreams was Martha Kent. She frequently enjoyed dissecting hers, or anyone else's, over the breakfast table, looking for hidden meanings and warnings. His father would often remark during this that he wouldn't believe his dreams unless they came regularly and always said the same thing: good weather, healthy crops, and fine times ahead. His mother usually responded that you couldn't force a dream to say anything, but he'd laugh and return to his paper, smiling at her.  
  
Clark wondered idly what his mother would make of his dream as he padded through the upstairs quietly. The door to his parents' room was open and he could see that it was empty. Downstairs, he could hear them chatting quietly and he smelled the delicious scent of his mother's bacon and eggs come wafting up from the kitchen. Hopping in the bathroom, he quickly showered and got ready, pulling some relatively clean clothes off his floor to wear.  
  
As he passed by the hallway mirror, he could see his reflection out of the corner of his eye. He was tall for a seventeen year old, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His face was dominated by a jaw-line that his friend Chloe had once said, 'wouldn't look that out of place on a statue.' He still didn't know what to think of that. Clark thought his face was serviceable, handsome without being too showy. He worried about his hair sometimes though. It hung wildly and seemed to refuse to be tamed by any comb. He'd noticed that a lock of his hair tended to curl up on his forehead when he wasn't looking and that always bugged him. He'd considered cutting it back, but it was hard enough keeping his hair this length in the first place. That was of course, because Clark Kent wasn't your normal teenage boy, if such a creature even existed.  
  
He though uneasily about how similar his arrival on this planet and his dream had been. At first, he'd just thought he'd been reliving those events, until things had started to go wrong. He hadn't landed in the middle of town, but in a field outside of it. And, as if by fate, it had only been Jonathon and Martha Kent who had seen his ship crash. The two, childless, had taken him in and loved him from the start, vowing to keep his secret safe for the rest of their lives. For a while, they had probably thought that wouldn't be too difficult because from all outward evidence, Clark looked just like any normal human boy. But as they'd slowly discovered, he was most definitely not. As he'd gotten older, his strength had grown so much that he could now perform feats that were beyond belief. He could lift a car up easily with one hand, and was literally impervious to pain and injury. His could run and move faster than the eye could see, and most startling of all, was even able to see through almost any surface. Recently, his vision had taken a new and almost dangerous twist; by focusing himself, he could cast intense waves of heat through his eyes, capable of melting stone. Not even Clark knew whether this was the last of his abilities to emerge, but at times he wondered what else lay in store for him.  
  
"As long as it's not a pair of little antenna," he reasoned to himself, "then it's alright with me."  
  
He came into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools. His mother had already laid out a plate with silverware and glasses ready for him. She was munching on a piece of toast and fussing with a pan full of scrambled eggs on the stove. He noticed that she was wearing one of the new business suits she'd bought when she'd taken her new job with Lionel Luthor. His father was standing by the open kitchen door with his favorite mug, which was spotted like a cow. He glanced back at Clark and smiled, raising his cup.  
  
"I thought the smell of breakfast would get you up," he smiled at him.  
  
"Morning, Clark," his mother said. She carried the pan over and heaped the contents on his plate. "We really need to get you a new alarm clock one of these days. You're going to be late for school." He grunted something that could have been in agreement, too busy with his breakfast to go on.  
  
"Clark could get up with five minutes to spare, do my chores, put the cows out in the fields, drop the produce off at the market, run to school and still have four minutes to spare," his father joked with her. He walked over and gave her quick peck on the cheek, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate she was carrying as he did. She smiled sweetly at him and put the plate on the table in front of Clark. "No need for an alarm clock with your cooking. And besides, have we forgotten what happened to the last one?"  
  
"That was an accident," Clark said in between bites. "I hit the snooze button a bit hard."  
  
"You put your hand through the nightstand, Clark."  
  
"It was an old nightstand," he protested.  
  
"Well, you're going to have to learn how to get up on your own then," his mother chided him. "I'm not going to be able to cook for you every morning, you know," she said, carrying the pan to the sink. Clark could sense what was coming next. He saw his father frown and walk back over to the window, staring outside.  
  
"Mr. Luthor's going to need me to come in an hour earlier for the next few weeks," she told them. "And maybe a few hours later as well."  
  
"I take it you already agreed to this, so there's no reason for me to give you my opinion about it?" his father asked coolly.  
  
"Everyone's going to be very busy," she explained to him patiently. "He needs me there." Jonathon took another sip from mug and said nothing.  
  
When the silence got threatening, Clark asked her quickly, "What are you going to be doing?"  
  
"Last minute agreement things; checking on contracts, reviewing proposals," she said, moving about the kitchen quickly. She picked up a briefcase he'd never seen before and started to put some papers in it. "Lionel's signed a lot of deals with Wayne Enterprises."  
  
Clark choked on his meal and took a quick gulp of milk. "Wayne Enterprises? That's not."  
  
"Yes, Bruce's company. He bought up a lot of failing manufacturing and industrial companies and joined them together. He's certainly stirring up things in Gotham. Lionel certainly underestimated him. He tried to short change him on a deal and Bruce wound up stealing a few contracts out from under his nose."  
  
Jonathon snorted into his cup, but Martha ignored that. "I have to say it's nice to see him doing something constructive for a change," she went on. "When he was in town last summer, the way he carried on. Well, it's just nice to see him starting something that won't end up with someone in the hospital."  
  
"The way Lionel conducts his business," his father remarked, "I wouldn't be too sure of that. Or from what we know of Bruce either."  
  
Clark understood that perfectly. Bruce Wayne had been traveling with a circus under the name of Tom Malone when he'd come to Smallville. Why someone with his amount of wealth would be living that way had been something of a mystery at first. Even more puzzling was his habit of showing up at just the right time, like when Lana had been attacked by a pair of car-jackers and Bruce had saved her. He had gotten suspicious and followed Bruce, but that had only complicated matters, revealing both of their secrets. He'd discovered that Bruce was some sort of vigilante, attacking criminals, and Bruce had found out about his powers. Neither had been happy about it, but a series of murders had forced them to pool their talents to survive and bring the killer to justice. It had also forced them to develop a kind of grudging respect for the other. Bruce might have been many things; stubborn, arrogant, intense, but he was also brilliant and very determined. If the Lionel wanted to take him on, Clark knew how much of a fight he was in for.  
  
"Simply terrible about Lionel," Jonathon remarked from the door, still looking out. Martha rolled her eyes in irritation. Clark watched the two of them, unsure of what to say.  
  
His parents had always been divided when it came to the Luthors; both Lionel and Lex. His mother was willing to give them a chance, but his father had always seen things differently. His attitude towards them was that "leopards don't change their spots." Clark might have felt differently about Lex, but that fit Lionel pretty accurately in his view. When his mother had taken the job as Lionel's personal assistant, it had only made things worse. She had told them she was only doing it because they needed the money, but sometimes Clark wasn't sure.  
  
Desperate to lighten the mood in some way, his eyes fell on the briefcase. "So, new briefcase, huh?" he tried to ask brightly. He saw his mother flinch and he instantly regretted it.  
  
"It was a gift," she said quickly. She put the last few papers in it quickly and shut the lid, setting it on the floor. Clark caught a glimpse of the embossed initial, LL, on the flap before it disappeared under the table.  
  
"I think I'll check on the cows," his father remarked from the door and stepped out without another word. Thunder rolled suddenly overhead as Martha looked after him sadly. When she turned back to Clark, she gave him a wan smile.  
  
"Storm's coming," she told him. "You almost never see those in the morning, huh? Gonna be pretty bad, I guess." Clark nodded lamely as he finished up his breakfast.  
  
"Virginia Woolfe, Chloe," Pete asked her, amused. "Why, of all people, did you choose Virginia Woolfe to do a paper on? You do know you'll actually have to read some of her books, don't you?" Classes were over for the day and they were walking back through the halls to the lockers. Pete idly munched on what was left of his lunch, sharing with Clark, as Chloe and Lana walked slightly ahead of them, chatting quietly.  
  
"I was going to choose Upton Sinclair, but I'd rather not have to take breaks throughout my research to barf up my lunch and swear off bologna, thank you very much," she told them breezily. Her blond hair curled up at her neck and bounced as she walked. "And besides, it'll be an easy report," she went on. "Blah blah blah. women's rights. blah blah blah. male dominated society. Easy A. I'm too busy with the paper to actually put effort into this."  
  
"I didn't think you'd take something like that so lightly," Lana mentioned, a bit puzzled. Taller than Chloe with a slightly exotic complexion, she was a natural born beauty. Not only that, she was one of the kindest and most caring people Clark knew. She glanced back at him and he felt the blood go rushing to his face. He always seemed to feel that way when she looked at him.  
  
"Clark, Pete," Chloe asked, bringing him back to reality, "do you still work for the paper?"  
  
Pete and Clark shared a quick look. "Sure, last time I checked," Pete replied. "I mean, we write an article here and there, if you call that work."  
  
She rolled her eyes but chose to ignore the comment. "Then you both work for me, right? Since I run the paper, correct?"  
  
"When you put it that way," Clark said slowly.  
  
"So I can order you around or even fire you if I want to. I'm your boss." Chloe turned back to Lana and nodded. "I think I'm about as liberated as I need to be, thank you."  
  
"That's not really the point," Lana started to say, but Clark shook his head.  
  
"It's not worth arguing with her," he told her. "Trust me."  
  
She laughed and then asked, "So who did you both choose?" Lana was in the other English class than the rest of them.  
  
Clark took out a thin book and held it out to her. "I got Lewis Carroll and Pete chose George Orwell. I figured, if I have to do a project about a past author, I may as well have some fun with it."  
  
Lana looked impressed. "Well, I guess we can count on you staying in for a while," she joked with Pete. "Looks like you've got a bit of research ahead of you."  
  
"Not really," he shrugged. "I checked the bookstores before we chose topics. Do you know how many Cliff Notes there are about him? It should be a crime to use them."  
  
"I think that's why it sorta is," Clark pointed out. At that moment a crack of thunder practically shook the school. Everyone jumped unconsciously and looked around nervously. The storm had started just before school and hadn't let up once. If anything, the clouds outside seemed to be building in intensity.  
  
"On that note," Pete said, looking outside, "who wants a ride home?" No one looked that thrilled. "C'mon, guy with a cool car here, free ride, it's raining, what's not to like?"  
  
"Your car's a convertible," Lana gently reminded him.  
  
"The top works most times," he said, nonplussed.  
  
"As exciting as that sounds, I'll pass," Chloe said. "My dad's of the belief that if you do anything during a storm you're risking electrocution. I'd rather finish up the Torch here than hiding under my covers at home."  
  
Pete nodded grudgingly and looked at Lana. "Sorry," she said. "I'm study hall bound. I promised I'd help tutor someone."  
  
"That's alright," he sighed. He turned towards Clark.  
  
"Okay," he agreed. "See you later," he said to Chloe and Lana.  
  
"Ooh, before I forget," Lana said and started to dig around in her bag. "I have something for all of you." She brought out film envelope and pulled out a stack of photos. "I was going through the junk drawer in the Talon and look what I found. From the grand opening; I guess Nell must have stuffed them in there and forgot about them. Ugh," she said, holding up a photo, "look at me. That's what I get for living off of coffee and no sleep the week before."  
  
"I know that routine," Chloe said dryly. She flipped through a few of the photos and passed them to Pete. "I never know what to say when I see myself in a photo," she admitted. "I mean, I look like me, what else is there to say?"  
  
"Something like, 'I'm looking fine,' or my personal favorite, 'Look who's got it going on,'" Pete suggested to her. He pulled out a picture of him and another girl dancing and held it up. "As shown in this photo."  
  
"I don't know about that," she rolled her eyes, "but I'll give you bonus points if you can actually remember the girl's name you were dancing with."  
  
He stood there for a moment, and then looked at the picture closely. "Huh," he said finally.  
  
"She must've been really special," Lana said to Chloe.  
  
"Absolutely," she agreed.  
  
Clark chuckled and took the rest of the photos from Pete's hands. He flipped through them quietly and then stopped at one and pulled it out. It was of all four of them, posing together in front of the Talon emblem. "Mind if I steal this one?" he asked Lana, holding it up.  
  
"Go ahead," she said. She touched the photo in his hand and smiled at him. "Nice choice by the way. Maybe we should blow it up and keep it in the Talon."  
  
Chloe snorted and rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's really cheesy, but even I have to vote 'yes' on that."  
  
"Second the motion," Pete chimed in. "Any opposed? Then the motion is cast. Get the negative blown up and framed and I'm all ready to sign it."  
  
"Should be ready by next week," Lana laughed. Clark smiled and tucked the photo up and stuck it in his wallet. Lana took the rest of the photos from him and stuck them back in the sleeve and in her backpack. "I'll have the rest in the Talon if anyone else wants to snag any more. Okay?" She smiled at them and she and Chloe started off down the hallways.  
  
"So," Pete said, turning to him. "What if we drive around and see if anyone else needs a ride home, okay? I hear the girl's soccer team gets out after the late busses leave. You never know, you might be able to give a nice looking girl a rescue."  
  
"Have fun, Pete," he told him and slung his backpack over his shoulder.  
  
"You're not actually gonna take me up on the ride, are you?" Pete realized.  
  
Clark looked at him and grinned. "Why don't we make a little race out of it?" he joked. "You drive, I'll run."  
  
Pete rolled his eyes and gave him a withering look. "Thanks but no thanks," he shook his head. "You know, I did a lot of oddjobs to save up for that car, and every time you lap it, all I can think about is how long it would take me to save up enough to buy a jet engine. 'Cause without that, there's no way I'm ever going to beat you"  
  
"I could ask Lex about that," Clark offered him. "He'd probably know what the going rate for one is these days."  
  
"Get out of here and leave me to my soccer players," Pete told him. "Man, I think I liked you better when you were being all mysterious," he complained.  
  
A half-hour later, Clark was jogging down the backroads to home, enjoying the feel of the rain against his face. His poncho flapped behind him as he ran, trailing after him like a cape. It kept his shirt and book bag dry but his jeans were already soaked to his hips from the rain and splashing in the muddy roads. Clark didn't mind though, he'd worked through a lot worse than this at the farm. The rain was actually quite cool and there was something innocently fun about running through the muddy road.  
  
He ran around the smaller puddles putting his feet down in between them like it was an obstacle course. Laughing, he stepped nimbly around a series of them and saw a much larger puddle stretched across the road in front of him. Unless he left the road there would be no going around it. A grin stretched across his face, Clark didn't slow down or step aside, he kept running and when he reached the edge of the puddle, he leapt up. He soared up and over it, at least twenty feet through the air, before coming back down on the other side. Not counting on the muddy ground there, he slipped as he landed and went skidding a few feet on his side.  
  
Now he was really filthy, but he still didn't mind. Clark picked himself up and tried to brush some of the mud off his jeans. That had been kind of stupid, he told himself, jumping like that. What if someone had seen him? He would've been hard put to explain how he could jump like that.  
  
His parents had always harped on that danger, that someone, someday would discover his powers and take him away from them. Clark understood it, he'd been fending off the suspicions of both Chloe and Lex for the past year to realize how real the possibility was, but sometimes he wondered about it. Pete had found out about him, but he'd sworn never to reveal it to another person. If one person could handle it, why couldn't others, he'd asked.  
  
His father had remarked that "it only took one. The wrong kind of person finds out, and well. who knows what would happen."  
  
The problem was, of course, that he was right. Sam Phelan, a rogue cop from Metropolis, had discovered the truth, and he'd tried to blackmail Clark into committing crimes for him. He'd threatened his family and friends. The reporter, Roger Nixon, had done the same before he'd died. Even Professor Hamilton had almost tortured Pete to get the truth when he'd found the spaceship. There were too many reasons, Clark realized, to keep his powers a secret. But that didn't make it any easier.  
  
Most of all, he thought, he wanted to tell his friends. To share with them what made him special. Not that he wanted to rub their noses in it, but he wanted to show them everything he could do, everything he was. He wanted to show Lana, Chloe, and even Lex just who he really was.  
  
But even as he thought it, he wondered, just what would they say? Chloe had devoted her life to chronicling the strange happenings in Smallville, how would she feel about finding out he was a major part of them? Lex had always gone on and on about how he hated people lying to him, how much he valued the truth in Clark. What would he say? And then there was Lana. Her parent's had died the day of the meteor shower, an unfortunate casualty of his arrival. How well could she be expected to take that?  
  
Clark sighed, thinking back over all those things. He started down the road again, and then stopped and looked around once more. There still wasn't anyone around, and there probably wouldn't be anyone on the road today with the storm. He hesitated briefly, his better judgment warning him against it, but in the end he gave in and hurried over to the side of the road. Taking off his poncho, he wrapped it around his book bag and stuck them both up in the branches of a nearby tree. Then, grinning like a maniac, he crouched on the ground.  
  
"On your marks," he muttered to himself. "Get set. Go!" Clark took off running, dashing at near full speed down the road. The wet mud exploded under his feet, throwing up torrents of brown water to either side of him. Laughing, he tried to turn around suddenly and found himself skidding helplessly along the road, carried by his own momentum. As he finally came to a stop, he fell over, gasping for breath. It was like ice skating or water skiing, he thought, exhilarated. Climbing to his feet, he dashed down the road again, going faster and faster until he slipped and went sliding madly again.  
  
This was just what he needed sometimes, he thought. To just take off and run, get away from everything that was bothering him. It wasn't fair that he had all these powers and he could never use them. That wasn't something he could share with his parents though. How would they be able to understand?  
  
Sometimes he felt like just taking off during the day and running free. To feel the wind get left behind him as he ran through the countryside. He'd sit in his chair at school and stare out the window and wonder what it would be like to do all the things he'd only dreamed about. To climb Mt. Everest in a day, and then jump off at the very peak just because he could survive the fall. Or to race a train to its destination and beat it there.  
  
Someday I'll be able to do all that, he promised himself. Or I'll do it and let people say what they want. They won't be able to stop me. I'll just let them do what they want and not worry about what -  
  
Lightning crashed to the ground not thirty feet away from him, startling Clark from his thoughts. He tripped and stumbled, sliding to a stop again. The storm was raging overhead more fiercely than ever. A bit frightened, he hadn't noticed how bad it had been getting. He decided quickly that he'd had enough fun for now and had better get home. He'd been hit by lightning before, and wasn't in much of a mood to try it again.  
  
"I guess running down a road surrounded by trees hadn't been too smart either," he muttered to himself, spitting out a bit of mud. "Lucky I didn't get shocked." He picked himself up and started back for the tree with his books, when another burst hit the ground in the exact same spot previously. Clark jumped again, staring at the impossibility. Then a third bolt flashed from the spot. And another.  
  
Stunned, Clark stared at it, and then he noticed something: the bolts were almost soundless. There was no thunder. That was as impossible as four bolts hitting the exact same spot one after another. Then a fifth bolt flashed and Clark realized it hadn't come from the sky. The bolts were coming from the ground. To confirm this, another flashed upwards and then arced overhead and smashed down next to him. He jumped backwards in shock and fell to the ground again.  
  
"Not lightning," he hissed between his teeth. "Not lightning!" Another arc flashed from the ground and curved overhead. Clark saw it coming and rolled to the side away from it. The bolt hit the ground and exploded as three more bolts flashed upwards. He tried to get to his feet to avoid them, but the ground was still to muddy, and he slipped to his knees. One of the bolts smashed into the ground by his hand, but the other two fell on him squarely. Instead of exploding, they fastened to him like chains, circling his chest and neck. They burned like fire against his skin, making him cry out. Then suddenly he was pulled off his feet and face first into the mud.  
  
Clark rolled onto his back and tried to pry the tendrils off him, but it was no good. It seemed like they had a death-grip on him. Slowly they started to pull him forwards. The spot in the ground they'd shot up from was now a circle of shimmering mud about six feet wide. The white arcs of energy were slowly drawing back down into it, pulling him along with them. He tried to brace his feet, but in the muddy road there was nothing to do so against. His feet scrambled and slipped against the mud, as he was pulled closer to the hole. It started to glow brighter as came nearer. Slowly the gap closed between them; first ten feet, then three feet away.  
  
Finally throwing everything he had into it, Clark let go of the tendrils and sunk his hands into the mud, looking for purchase. His hands felt blindly in the muck as he was pulled slowly backwards. Then, amazingly, he felt something hard underneath his fingers. He latched onto it and felt himself stop right on the edge of the circle. The tendrils tightened against him neck and chest, leaving him choking for air. Still, he held on grimly. The wind whipped overhead as the storm raged on.  
  
Then he heard it, faintly over the wind. Clark. It was just a whisper in his ear, but it sounded so familiar to him that he froze in shock. He knew that voice from somewhere.  
  
"Is anyone there?" he bellowed, holding on for all he was worth. The tendrils tugged fiercely at him, but he fought against them, trying to pull himself away. "Can you hear me? Help me!"  
  
Help me. It came again, echoing him. The tendrils writhed against his skin, getting tighter. One of his hands slipped and he dangled there, fighting for his breath. He clutched at the tendril's fingers with his free hand, trying to pry them apart. He could feel his fingers slipping in the mud. Help me, it came again, the tendril's fingers tightening. Then he realized they were fingers, and not bands of energy. Somewhere in the struggle, the tendril's had formed into great, white arms and they were dragging him in. Like a living thing, they were dragging him in. Help me, it called out desperately. His grip slipped and he was pulled down in a rush, screaming, towards the shimmering circle. His last thought in this world, was that he could see a face in it.  
  
Then he plunged in, and was gone. 


	3. Displaced

Updated: 5/4/03  
  
Chapter 2  
  
There was a rush of sound, light, and feeling, each more intense than anything he'd ever experienced before. Then it was gone and he was immersed in absolute blackness. The next thing he knew, he was choking. He sucked water into his lungs and gagged for air, waking up in a rush. Somehow, he was now underwater. The cold water bit deep into him and he struggled to the surface. He gulped air and paddled about, blinking to clear his eyes.  
  
He was in a lake, about twenty feet from the shore. He stared about, paddling in the cold water. A small bridge extended over his head; wide enough to support one lane of travel. He swam over to the shore, and pulled himself onto the bank. There he collapsed, gasping for air. He'd never felt so drained before in his life.  
  
For a long time he lay there, half out of the water. The sun shone down on him from the clear sky overhead, warming his skin. Finally he pulled himself up to his knees and stood up, his legs quivering. "Okay," he said quietly, "what just happened?" A very good question he realized. And here was another, where was he? He stared around slowly, staggering again. Clark knew all the back roads in Smallville by heart, and he didn't recognize this place. It hadn't been the road he'd just been on, that was for sure. It didn't go over any lake, so how had he gotten here? He stared around, and realized slowly, that he didn't recognize the lake either. Where was he?  
  
Numbly, he turned around and made his way up the bank on his hands and knees. Reaching the top, he heaved himself up and staggered out onto the road, staring around. The countryside around him looked familiar enough to him, but he glanced back at the lake in puzzlement. A small family of geese was bobbing around in the middle of the lake, honking at him. He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes absently and then stopped as he caught sight of his hand.  
  
Where the tendrils had grabbed onto his wrist, his skin was a deep red, almost like it had been burned. He rubbed it gingerly, and then touched the skin on his neck, wincing. Without a mirror, there was no way of telling, but he was sure it was just as red. "What the hell happened to me?" he gasped.  
  
Feeling weak, Clark hobbled over to the bridge and sat down on one of the beams. For a few moments, he just rested in the sun, trying to catch his breath. Everything had happened so quickly on the road, he hadn't had time to think about what had happened. He had just been snatched up and pulled into something, he thought, rubbing his wrists again. But by what? And why?  
  
There'd been a face there, he thought to himself. At the end, he'd almost seen something, like he'd caught of glimpse of whatever had grabbed him. But now, he couldn't remember anything about it. He didn't even know if it had been human or not. But there had been something strange about it, he realized slowly. Something familiar, about the voice, I heard. But what was it?  
  
Disquieted, he swallowed and stared around again. He glanced up at the sky, noting the lack of clouds and rain. It had been storming not five minutes ago, but now- How long had it all lasted? It looked to be the early afternoon, but beyond that, he couldn't tell anything else.  
  
As he stared upwards, his eyes fell on something else that gave him a shock. There was a sign over the bridge, attached to one of the poles. He read it once, and then got up slowly and walked into the middle of the road, staring up at it. "Sales Bridge, Siegel Road," he read it again. He swallowed again and read it a third time, but it was still the same. "That's impossible," he breathed. Siegel road ran through Smallville and up to the interstate a few miles past their farm. His father had taught him how to drive on it. He'd run down it nearly everyday to get to school and town. And in all that time, there had never been a bridge on it.  
  
As he stared overhead, a car appeared over the horizon. Clark stood there, stunned, still looking at the sign. The driver was forced to stop the car in front of him and lean on the horn. "Get out of the road," he yelled, leaning out the window. Jumping slightly, Clark moved to the side quickly.  
  
"Sorry," he called out. The man shook his head at him and started to drive off. "Um. excuse me? Is that sign right?" he asked, pointing, before he could leave.  
  
"Of course it is," he leaned out again. He looked to be about sixty, with a thick gray moustache. Noting Clark's confused look, he asked, "Something wrong?"  
  
"I think you could say that," he muttered. The old man raised his eyebrows. He seemed to take in Clark's still wet clothes and disheveled appearance. "I kinda fell of the bridge," he said quickly, trying to laugh it off. "Um. you wouldn't really know where this road goes, would you?" he asked  
  
"You lost or something?"  
  
"New in town," he said quickly. "Very new."  
  
The old man grunted loudly and stared at him a moment longer. Then he shrugged. "Well, if you're looking for a ride, I might be able to help you," he offered. He gestured to the back of the truck with his head. "I'll take you as far as my farm. It's about a half a mile into town from there."  
  
"Thanks." Wherever he was, getting into town sounded like as good a plan as any. He climbed over the dusty railing of the car and stepped into the back. Then he paused, thinking of something. He leaned over the side to talk to the old man. "'Town' is Smallville, right? That's where we're going?" he demanded.  
  
The old man turned around in his seat to give him a brief look. "You're not in any sort of trouble, are you boy?" he asked carefully. "I don't care much for the corps, but I'm not gonna stick my neck out."  
  
Corps? I must have heard him wrong, Clark thought. "No, I'm just. a bit lost. I don't really know where I am." The old man searched his face and then turned back. He reached into his glove box and handed it back to Clark. It was an old road map.  
  
"Knock yourself out," the old man said lightly. "My name's Earl Logan if you're curious."  
  
"Clark Kent." He picked up the map eagerly and opened it up. It was of Smallville all right, but not the Smallville he remembered. Earl started driving back down the road as Clark sat in the back of the pickup, poring over the piece of paper.  
  
It was wrong, he thought at first. The map had to be wrong. He almost started to ask Earl whether he'd given him the right map, but he caught himself. The old man was suspicious enough about him as it was. Some of the roads and other features, he recognized, but the rest of it might have been of some different town all together. Streets were different, buildings were marked here that Clark knew had been closed down for years. There was the Ross Corn factory, and the old Ironworks. And there was Potter's.  
  
He traced Siegel Road's path out for a moment and then turned around. "Are we near Potter's field?" he called out.  
  
"We're driving through it," Earl called back, not bothering to turn around. Clark looked up, his mouth open in amazement.  
  
"It can't be." he breathed out. Potter's field, at least the one he knew, was a barren stretch of soil, rendered barren by the meteor crash. It had been abandoned for as long as Clark could remember. But as he looked out over the land, all he could see was rolling fields of corn. The wind rustled through the stalks and passed by him. It wasn't possible.  
  
"What happened to this place?" he asked aloud. "The meteor shower was supposed to have hit this." He was cut off as the truck stopped abruptly. Earl cut off the engine and stepped out the cab, staring up at him petulantly.  
  
"What's this about the meteor shower?" he grated at him.  
  
"There was supposed to have been a big hit here," he said, his eyes going back to the field. "This is. I mean, it's supposed to be all barren."  
  
"Like hell there was. Meteor's didn't come close to here." He paused and craned his neck down at Clark, eyeing him fiercely. "Say, you aren't one of those alien freaks, are you?" Clark flinched and tore his eyes off the field. Alien freaks? How could he-  
  
Earl spit into the dirt and gave him a hard look. "You all are always digging in my fields, looking for samples and spreading around your crazy stories. Sometimes I'm even glad we've got the Luthor Corps to keep you all away," he snarled.  
  
"But there was a strike."  
  
"That's all you people ever want to talk about," he went on, ignoring Clark. "That or aliens coming down with the blasted things. Why don't you go bother someone else? I wasn't even living here on Red Tuesday."  
  
If Clark was confused before, he was positively stunned now. It was like his ears weren't working right. He couldn't be hearing this, could he?  
  
"I don't understand," he managed to blurt out, "what's this about aliens?" Earl grunted and started to get back in the truck. "No please! Just tell me what you mean!" It was apparently the wrong thing to say.  
  
"That's it," he remarked and turned back. "Out of the truck. I'm not taking you any further. Find your own way into town." Clark numbly climbed out of the back, still trying to understand what was going on. First that strange lighting shower, and then all the other weirdness, and now this?  
  
The old man climbed back into the truck and slammed the door shut. "And I don't want to see you on my lands, you hear me? Dig anywhere else you want, but don't go bothering me again!" He paused and then leaned over in the truck cab. "Here," he said, removing something from the glove box. "If you're so interested in the damn things, have one, just leave me be!" He tossed something at Clark as he drove off. Clark caught it instinctually, still staring at the receding car. Then he glanced down at and promptly dropped it and jumped back. Earl had tossed him a chunk of green stone about the size of a baseball. It was a meteor rock.  
  
Clark stared at it like it might bite for a moment, but then he realized something. He raised the hand he'd caught it with and turned it over. There was none of the tell-tale reaction he usually experienced when he got near even a tiny meteor fragment. A rock that size should have had him on his knees in seconds, but he hardly felt a thing. Gingerly, he bent down and picked it up, still waiting for the radiation to hit him, but nothing happened.  
  
"What the hell?" he muttered, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a chunk of the meteor, but where was the radiation? He studied it closer, wishing he had a microscope handy. Then again, he reasoned, he wouldn't be able to tell if it was for real or not even if he had one. He'd never studied the meteor stones that closely before, preferring to stay far away from them.  
  
While he was staring at it, he suddenly heard a high pitched scream. He cocked his ears, listening. It came again and he pinpointed it. It was a female, young, probably around his age. He shoved the stone into his jacket pocket and took off running, following the sound. It had come from the old iron works, not too far off the road. The 'new' ironworks, he had to remind himself as he saw it. It wasn't the run down, husk he remembered, but a functioning building now. There was a chain link fence surrounding the property and inside Clark could see rows of cars and trucks, all of them dirty and broken down.  
  
It must be some sort of junkyard now, he realized. Then he heard the scream again, and with it, the harsh barking of dogs. He came to a halt as he saw a girl come running through one of the aisles of junkers, clutching something to her chest. She was making for the fence, but hot on her heels were four large, angry dogs. She wasn't going to make it, he thought, seeing how close the dogs were.  
  
Clark ran up to the edge of the fence and vaulted himself over easily. He landed and motioned to the girl, holding his hands out. She clutched something to her chest tighter and ran faster. Her long blonde hair was whipping behind her fiercely as the dogs nipped at the ends of her leather jacket. Pouring on the speed, she managed to reach him with seconds to spare. He grabbed her and practically threw her over the fence and to safety. He saw her clear the edge and drop roughly to the grass on the other side. As Clark started to climb up after her, one of the dogs latched onto his leg tightly. Frowning, he shook him off as gently as he could and saw the dog drop off with a yelp of surprise. He climbed the rest of the way up and jumped down to the other side of the fence.  
  
"There you go," he said, landing easily. "Lucky I came along." The girl groaned and picked herself off the ground, still cradling the box.  
  
"God, thank you so much," she said, dusting herself off. "The last thing I needed was to wind up as Alpo for those mutts." There was something about her voice that was oddly familiar. Her jeans were torn and a bit dirty from the run, but they looked like they'd been expensive once. She was about a foot shorter than him, but her figure was definitely adult. Clark caught himself staring at her tight t-shirt and tore his eyes away.  
  
"You should probably be a little bit more careful then," he said as she straightened up. "I mean, that probably wasn't the safest place to." he stopped as he got a better look at her. She had a very pretty face, with a kind of pert, spunky look to it. She brushed out her long hair and gave him a one sided smile that he knew well. For what seemed the fifth time today, Clark was speechless.  
  
"So what's your name, handsome?" Chloe Sullivan asked him with a smile. 


	4. Chloe

Updated: 5/4/03  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It was like someone had unplugged Clark's brain. He wasn't capable of rational thought. All he could do was stare at the girl in front of him, looking her up and down and refusing to accept what he saw. It was not Chloe Sullivan, it couldn't be. It was impossible.  
  
"So, you have a name?" she asked finally, tilting her head in a way that sent a shudder of familiarity through him. If this person wasn't Chloe, she certainly looked like her. She had the same smile, the same face, the hair was longer, but it was the same vibrant gold he remembered. There was the same sparkle in her eyes. She smiled a little as she waited for him to speak.  
  
"Cl. Clark," he managed to choke out finally.  
  
"Is that with one cluck or two?" she remarked. She waited for him to laugh and then shrugged when nothing was forthcoming. "So, I guess they only make them big and pretty where you come from, not too swift on the uptake. Pity." She turned around, her hair whipping about behind her. "Thanks again for the save," she called back as she started off.  
  
He watched her leave for a moment before his brain kicked back into gear. "Wait a minute," he called, running up to her. He caught her arm to pull her back.  
  
She glared down at his hand and then looked up at him. "You want to keep that?" she asked him acidly. He jerked his hand back and she nodded.  
  
"Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you," he said.  
  
"Better ways to ask a girl," she remarked.  
  
He blinked and then frowned a little. "Like saving your life?" he asked her quickly. She considered that and then smiled at him.  
  
"I'm all ears," she told him. Chloe shifted around the metal box she was holding and waited.  
  
"Okay," he said, trying to find a way to start. The best way he decided, was to be blunt. "You don't know me right?" he asked her.  
  
She looked at him closely and then shrugged. "Sorry, but no. Should I?"  
  
"But that's," he said, "that's impossible."  
  
"Oh no. Let me guess," she broke in, giving him a wry look. "We shared something very special once, right? We were soulmates or something? Probably met at a party or something and we just clicked, huh? Shared something wild and passionate that changed your life forever, is that your version? Well, bottom line, if we did, I can't remember, and if I can't remember, it probably wasn't worth it in the first place." Clark took a step back, shocked.  
  
"Sorry to ruin your big fantasy, buddy, but that's life," she tossed off. On the other side of the fence they heard a door swing open loudly. The dogs picked up their barking on cue. Chloe bit her lip and hugged the box tighter to her chest.  
  
"Geez, don't get a break around here," she yelled, and grabbed his arm. "Run!" she called out and tugged him after her. They took off across the road and through the fields. Clark could only follow after her, thoroughly confused.  
  
Just where had he wound up that this was Chloe Sullivan? Was this some sort of joke? Or a dream? He didn't remember falling asleep, all he remembered was the strange lighting shower and being pulled into some sort of.  
  
"Portal," he breathed out. They reached the edge of the forest and stopped, Chloe bending over and resting on her knees, puffing. It must have been a portal, Clark thought, standing there. There was no other way he could explain it. He wasn't in Smallville anymore, not his Smallville anyway.  
  
Chloe sat down on the ground and put the metal box on her lap. "I hate running," she complained. "Damn dogs." She started to fiddle with the box on her lap. Frowning, she glanced at him. "Did you say something?"  
  
"Nothing," he said quickly. She shrugged and went back to studying the box. Pulling out a pin, she started to pick the lock.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly, frowning.  
  
"Checking it for defects," she remarked. The lock sprang open with a click and she pulled it off. "Look, there's one now." She tossed it over her shoulder and opened the box. It was partly full of tens and twenties. To Clark's unbelieving eyes, Chloe scooped them up and started to grin.  
  
"You're stealing!" She shushed him and motioned for him to keep his voice down. "What are you doing with that?" he demanded, much more softly.  
  
"Don't preach to me," she warned him, pocketing the money. "I appreciate the help with the dogs and all, but there's a limit to how much I owe you."  
  
"You have to return that, Chloe. I'm serious, you could go to jail for something like that."  
  
She smirked at him and got up, kicking the empty box aside as she did. "Yeah, like my uncle would let that happen. And I don't recall telling you my name," she turned back to him.  
  
"I. uh." he stuttered, trying to think of an answer.  
  
"Oh right, the connection thing," she shook her head. "God, I'm glad I don't remember you," she told him and started to walk off.  
  
"You have to return that money, Chloe!" he told her, running after her.  
  
"What do you care?"  
  
"I care because I don't want to see you wind up in trouble," he told her, a little exasperated.  
  
"That's only if you get caught," she smirked at him. "And stop following me! It's not that I don't appreciate the save back there, but it's getting a little creepy now." She pointed at his muddy clothes. "Besides, you look like you just fell in a river."  
  
"Lake actually," he admitted.  
  
"Did you hit your head on the bottom, 'cause that would explain a lot." She tried to walk a little faster, but he kept up right behind her. They crossed over the fields and onto a tiny dirt road. Chloe tucked the wad of money into her jacket and started walking nonchalantly as Clark followed after her. She glanced back at him quickly and started walking even faster. He matched her speed easily, lengthening his stride. Finally, she turned around and stared at him, incredulous. "God, are you slow? Go. Away. I don't want you near me."  
  
"Look if I had any other choice I would," he said in a rush. "I just got here and you're you, but you're not and neither is anything else and it's all really confusing right now."  
  
"Look," she said, leaning in close to him, "even on my best day, I wouldn't care enough to talk you down from this. So my suggestion is to turn around, go back to that lake you fell in before, and try again. Maybe you'll get it right and drown this time." Clark blinked in response, and then a black pickup appeared at the end of the road. Chloe glanced at it quickly and then sighed, shaking her head. "And now this day is perfect," she said, dryly.  
  
The truck pulled up next to them and a young man who looked vaguely familiar to Clark leaned out of the driver's side window, smiling at them, or more precisely at Chloe. He had dirty blond hair cut short and had a flat ugly face. "Chloe," he said lightly, leering down at her. "What brings you out here?"  
  
"Open road, Sean" she shrugged, giving him a fake little smile. "Not breaking any laws going for a walk, am I?"  
  
"I don't know about that, but I guess you'd be the expert." She smiled a little broader at that, then looked away, muttering under her breath. Sean looked over at Clark, as if seeing him for the first time and gave him an appraising glance. "He always look like that, or did I catch you two at a bad time?" he asked, nodding at Clark's clothes. Clark glanced down at himself, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Looking back up, he noticed that Sean was wearing a Smallville High Football jacket and something finally clicked in his head.  
  
"Sean Kelvin?" he blurted out. Sean and Chloe stared at him.  
  
"Yeah," he nodded slowly.  
  
"But- But you died," Clark said, bewildered. "You froze in the lake."  
  
Now they were really staring at him. "Excuse me?" Sean asked.  
  
"Forget about him," Chloe remarked. She stepped in front of Clark and stared up at Sean. "Look, I need to get into town. Can you just give me a ride or something?"  
  
"He coming too?" He nodded over her shoulder to Clark.  
  
"In every sense of the words 'God, no'," she replied.  
  
"Good," he said shortly, giving Clark a worried look. "Hop in." He opened the passenger door and scooted back to the driver's seat.  
  
"Well," Chloe said, turning back to Clark, "it's been. " she searched for a word for a moment and then just smiled and shrugged at him. "See ya."  
  
"Wait a minute," he said quickly. "You're just leaving?"  
  
"And now you catch on quick," she rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry if your lost or something, but I don't see how I'm supposed to help you with any of this. So see ya." she floundered for a name.  
  
"Clark," he said quickly. "Clark Kent, I've been your best friend for like three years now. You have to remember!" She took a step back and Sean opened the driver door, staring down at them.  
  
"Chloe?" he asked quickly, giving Clark a hard look.  
  
She ignored him for the moment and stared at Clark intently. "For the last time," she said quietly to him, "I don't know you, and I don't even think I want to know you. Now are you going to let me go or are we going to have a problem here."  
  
He stared at her for a moment and then shook his head, backing off. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," she snapped. She hurried around the truck and climbed in, slamming the door behind her. Clark stood there, blinking as they drove off, the tires kicking some of the dirt back towards him. He watched it disappear down the road and then looked around at the fields and woods around him. Then he pulled the meteor rock out of his jacket pocket and held it up, giving it a bewildered look.  
  
"Where the hell am I?" he breathed out, looking back down the road again. 


	5. Welcome to Smallville

Updated: 5/4/03 Chapter 4  
  
With nothing else left for him to do, Clark followed Sean's truck into town, staying far enough behind them to keep from behind seen. And the nearer they got to the town, the more he saw what else was now different in Smallville. Most of the farms and homes that he remembered on the outskirts of town were now abandoned or bulldozed over. A few of the fields had been replaced by crummy looking housing projects and trailer yards. He could have counted on one hand the number of working fields left.  
  
There were also a number of new Luthorcorp buildings that Clark didn't remember. Shipping plants, office buildings, factories, they were all scattered around the outskirts of town. They even passed what suspiciously looked like a smaller version of a nuclear power plant, but Clark couldn't be certain. How had all of this happened, he wondered. For the life of him, he couldn't think of the answer.  
  
Finally, they came to the edge of the main town and Clark had to slow down quickly, to keep from behind seen. He doubted that things had changed that much where a teenager moving at super-human speed wouldn't draw a notice or two. He hurried down the street, watching Sean's truck pull to a stop at a light. Ducking into an alley, he glanced out quickly to see if they'd moved on yet. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to follow them now that he couldn't keep up anymore.  
  
"Hey, you got a buck?" a rough voice asked him, making him jump. Clark turned around quickly, staring downwards. A man was lying in the alley, wrapped up in torn cardboard and old newspaper. He stared up at Clark with a slightly off-center gaze. "Anything, man?" he asked again.  
  
"Here," he said, a little put off, as he pulled out his wallet. He mechanically pulled out a few bucks and handed it to the man.  
  
He took it eagerly. "Bless you, son." He stared at the money, smiling a little and tucked it away inside his stained shirt. Clark moved away from him slowly, backing out of the alley, more than a little disquieted.  
  
He'd never seen a homeless person in Smallville before. That sort of thing didn't happen here. He'd seen them in Metropolis, yes, but not in Smallville. Glancing down at his feet, he saw that the sidewalk was covered with cigarette buts and other pieces of garbage. There was a trashcan not five feet from him that was dented in and overflowing. Then he looked around him, as if for the first time, and saw the grubby buildings and spray-painted walls of the town. He saw the people hurrying past him with their heads down, not making eye-contact. The people he remembered had taken pride in keeping their city clean and hadn't looked so beaten down. What had happened here?  
  
The sound of a car door slamming shut brought him back as he turned and saw Chloe climbing out of the truck. He ducked quickly back into the alley before she could see him and then stared around the corner, watching her carefully. She said a few more things to Sean and then walked away. The truck pulled into traffic and made a turn as the light changed. Clark watched it drive off and then focused back on Chloe, who was now walking down the street, away from him.  
  
He carefully followed after her, staying far behind her and trying to keep out of sight. It was hard work, to stay focused on her as passed by so many strange and puzzling things. He followed her by a wall plastered with posters and flyers for Luthorcorp. All he could do was glance at them quickly, picking up such phrases as First in the Nation: By Demand!, Put Your Faith in The People Behind the Power, and WLIO: Bringing You the Best in Entertainment and News. Even more puzzling was one that said Lionel Luthor: the Man Whose Hand Guides the Nation. He glanced at Chloe's receding figure and then back at the posters, sorely tempted to turn around and head back, but instead he hurried after her. Maybe she'd able to explain some of this, if he could get her to talk to him that was.  
  
He followed Chloe past the Beanery, which surprisingly enough looked the same as it always had, and then got another shock for a moment as he glanced into the old antique shop his mother had used to frequent before the woman who owned it had died. Now it looked like it hadn't been closed a day. Then he saw a girl about his age carry an old chair out from the back of the shop and he stopped dead in his tracks. Someone bumped into him roughly from behind and he heard something drop to the ground, but he hardly noticed. "Tina Greer?" he said as he stared inside.  
  
"Watch where you're going," someone said and Clark turned around, startled. A woman was bending down behind him, picking up groceries and looking at him angrily.  
  
"Sorry about that," he said quickly, taking one last glance inside the shop. Then he bent quickly and started to gather her things up. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see where Chloe was, but couldn't find her in the crowd. "Sorry," he said again, not looking as he shoved the food in the woman's bag.  
  
"Just remember that next time," she said quickly. She started to say something more when she suddenly stopped and stared at his face, her eyes growing wide. Clark missed her look as he glanced around again for Chloe.  
  
"I will, I promise," he said lightly. Then he seemed to notice her silence and turned around, frowning at her. She was still staring at him, her fingers white as she clutched the edge of her bag. "Is everything okay?" he asked her slowly. The woman fell over roughly and started to back away from him on all fours. He stared after her, his mouth open. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I don't believe this!" Chloe's voice rang out. Clark turned around quickly to see her standing just behind him with her hands on her hips. She looked ready to explode. "How the hell did you even follow me here in the first place?" she snapped at him.  
  
Behind him, Clark heard a sudden scuffling and he turned to see the older woman running away. She'd even left her groceries behind. He watched her dash around the corner and out of sight, utterly bewildered. "Well, I'm waiting," Chloe said impatiently.  
  
Turning back to Chloe, he stuttered for a moment, thinking. "I caught a ride into town after you left. I didn't even know you were in front of me."  
  
"Okay, fair enough. You just caught a ride." She repeated angrily, staring at him. Chloe nodded to herself and looked down the street in either direction. There was no one near them now. "So what way are you going now?"  
  
"I. uh, don't really know," he hesitated, knowing he was trapped now. "That way," he pointed down the street. Before he was even done speaking, Chloe was walking past him in the opposite direction. "Or maybe not," he muttered, getting up to follow after her.  
  
"Guess you're not that good with directions, huh?" she called back to him, walking faster now.  
  
"I just need to talk to you for a minute. C'mon, Chloe!"  
  
She turned around, glaring at him. "How many different ways can I say it? NO! And stop saying that like you know me."  
  
"I do know you, or something like that," he started, but she rolled her eyes and started walking away again. "Okay, how about this then: you're dream is to become a newspaper reporter," he said, catching up to her again. "How could I have known that unless I knew you?"  
  
"Pretty easily since you're wrong: I haven't narrowed it down or anything but I was leaning towards groupie or. well, I haven't thought of something else though, but I'm gonna," she said in a rush. Then she frowned and looked down at herself for a moment. "And what about me suggests 'newspaper reporter' to you anyways?" she gestured with her hands.  
  
"Okay. So maybe you're not into newspaper reporting now, but you will be," he promised her. "Alright, I know how bad that sounds," he admitted as he caught her look. She stared at him flatly and he went back to racking his brain to find something else.  
  
"Your father works for Luthorcorp," he said. She raised her eyebrows, but didn't respond. "Your favorite color is pink. You have a fear of needles. Oh, you don't eat tomatoes but you love ketchup!"  
  
"How did you know-" she started and then she recovered quickly. "Okay, maybe you do know a bit about me," she said, nodding slightly. Then she smiled snidely at him and cocked her head. "Congratulations, you're a stalker." She turned around again and walked off.  
  
"The morning your mother left, you came downstairs and found your dad making some eggs for you." She stopped, frozen in place. "He'd burnt them, but you ate them anyways as he told you what happened. That was the first time he'd ever made you breakfast." Chloe turned around slowly, her mouth slightly open. Then her face darkened and she stormed back over to him. Rearing back, she slapped him hard across the face. Clark turned his face as she hit him, absorbing the blow.  
  
"Never say anything else about my mother," she hissed at him. "You don't have the right. You didn't know her and you sure as hell don't know me."  
  
He nodded slightly, seeing the look on her face. "Sorry," he said, meaning it. "I wouldn't have if-" She glared at him, clearly not believing him. "I just need to talk to you, please. I don't have anyone else here."  
  
"Fine then," she said at last. Then her eyes widened and she cried out, "And fuck!" Wincing, she held up her hand, which was swiftly turning beet red. She held it tightly by the wrist, her eyes screwed shut. "Ow, ow, ow."  
  
"Oh, geez, sorry!" Clark looked around swiftly. "Let's get you some ice. The Talon would be the closest place." He took her bye the shoulders and started to guide her down the street. Chloe shrugged off his help irritably, walking on her own.  
  
"Don't bother," she said angrily. She walked over to a table outside a shop where someone had set down a Styrofoam cup down. Picking it up with one hand, she popped the lid off slightly and poured what was left in it on the sidewalk, keeping the lid in the way of the ice inside. Clark blinked, but didn't say anything, glancing inside the shop nervously to see if anyone had noticed them. She grabbed a napkin from the table and poured the ice into it. Wrapping it around her swollen hand, she started to leave, nodding for him to come with her.  
  
"What's your name, again?" she asked, fussing with the napkin.  
  
"Clark Kent," he said, catching up to her. "I'm sorry about that."  
  
"Forget about it. So before I broke my hand across your face, what did you want to ask?" she asked shortly, clearly still angry at him.  
  
He fell into step behind her. "Everything," he shook his head, a little desperate.  
  
"You're going to have to get more specific than that."  
  
"Okay, how about that," he said, spotting a Luthorcorp poster on the wall. It was the same one he'd seen earlier. Lionel Luthor, looking both paternal and respectable, stared back at them. "What's with all the Luthorcorp stuff? I don't remember anything like this. If there should be anything up it should be Lexcorp."  
  
"Luthorcorp," she corrected him.  
  
"Lexcorp," he stressed it. She stared back at him, still confused, and shrugged. He sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind. Just tell me what Lionel Luthor is doing on a poster."  
  
Chloe glanced at the poster and smiled lightly. She reached out and toyed with the edge of the poster. "Luthorcorp puts those up everywhere. I guess they think if they wallpaper the town with them, maybe it'll make everyone forget about all the crap they cause." She sniffed and tore it off the wall in one motion, letting it fall to the ground. "Besides, it's not like anyone is going to stop them. They own the wall, they own the building; hell, they probably own the street we're walking on. They can advertise if they want."  
  
"But how?" He turned around and stared at her. "Luthorcorp doesn't own anything in Smallville. They used to run the fertilizer plant, but that was bought by Lex."  
  
"Lex?" she asked. "You mean Lex Luthor? He doesn't own anything; it's all his dad's. And Luthorcorp owns pretty much everything here. Here and everywhere else in the country."  
  
He absorbed this quietly, puzzling it over. Chloe continued to stare at him, looking confused. "You had to have known about this. It's not like its recent news or anything."  
  
"Not to everyone," he muttered. She shrugged and adjusted the icepack on her hand, not saying anything. He stared down the street, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Then his eyes fell on something and he stepped past her, gaping.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
"Tell me about that," he said in a hushed voice. She craned her head, looking. "The Talon," he said, pointing.  
  
The bright and warm place he'd spent so many afternoons in was gone. Now, the Talon was a boarded up old husk. The marquee overhead was falling to pieces and had been propped up with a length of metal pipe. Peeling movie posters were taped to the doors, all for movies that were a few years old. Clark felt a cold shiver as he stared in the broken, dingy windows. He'd never seen it look this bad, even before Lana had renovated the building from a failing movie theater to a coffee shop. He walked across the street blindly, staring at the boarded up wreck. A car screeched around him, narrowly missing him. Clark didn't even notice at all.  
  
Chloe ran after him, dodging cars in the street as she crossed to his side. "What was that about?" she yelled. "You could've gotten killed!"  
  
"What happened here?" he demanded, ignoring her question completely. "This place shouldn't be a wreck, Lana fixed it up! What's going on?" She stared from him to the Talon. Grabbing her arms he asked again, "Chloe, what happened?"  
  
"Let go of me!" she yelled back at him, fighting him. Blinking, he released her and stepped back quickly. She glared back at him, rubbing her arms. He glanced around as people nearby stared accusingly.  
  
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he said in a rush. "I didn't mean-"  
  
"Yeah, well, I don't really care," she snapped back. "I had you pegged for a psycho from the start and so far you haven't done anything to make me think differently. And speaking of which, so what if things are different than you remember? Everything else seems perfectly normal to me and everybody else, so did you ever think it was just you? What if you're the one who's crazy, huh? You think of that?"  
  
"I'm not crazy," he told her quietly.  
  
"Yeah? Then I guess it's just everyone else, huh?"  
  
Turning angrily, she stormed off across the street. Clark hesitated and glanced back at the Talon. Then he set his chin and started after her. She heard him coming and turned around, her face set, but her eyes are little worried.  
  
"If you don't turn around and walk away right now," she warned him, "I'm gonna scream bloody murder until the cops come."  
  
"With that money in your jacket?" he asked quietly. He reached into his pocket and she flinched, but he only pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he took out a picture tucked inside and held it out to her. "This morning I woke up and went to school with all my friends. One of them gave me this, a picture of all of us at the Talon, at its reopening." She stared at him and then at the photo. "Look at the sign in the window," he urged her, "look at the girl in the photo. It's you, or the Chloe Sullivan I know."  
  
With trembling fingers, she took the photo and stared at it. "How." she breathed out. She looked up at him and then at the Talon.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted. "One minute I was running home and the next I was pulled here." She started to shake her head fiercely and he bent down, glancing around them as people gave them strange looks. "I know this is a lot to believe," he said quietly, "but you have to trust me. I don't know where I am or how I got here, but I do know who you are. You're my friend. You have to help me."  
  
She stared up at him in shock. Blinking, she swallowed and then licked her lips, glancing at the picture again. "This is a trick," she stammered. "It has to be."  
  
Before he could say anything, they were distracted abruptly as two large trucks screeched to a halt at the end of the street. Then almost simultaneously, another two pulled up at the opposite end, effectively sealing off the block. As soon as they were stopped, armed soldiers poured out from them, all wearing black and gray uniforms. Unconsciously, Clark grabbed Chloe and hurried her off the street and away from the soldiers, towards the Talon. Everyone else on the sidewalk seemed to have the same idea. In moments, a crowd of about ten people had gathered together around them, staring about fearfully.  
  
"What's happening?" someone asked fearfully, but no one had any idea. A woman began to moan quietly, staring at the troops.  
  
Clark leaned down towards Chloe and gave her a quick look. "What's going on?" he asked, gestured to the troops. She didn't answer.  
  
A man in his car leaned on his horn fiercely at the massed soldiers in front of him, motioning them to move aside. Someone barked a command and they raised their guns to shoulder level, readying them. His horn died out slowly as he gaped at them. Then fearfully, he scrambled out of his car and dashed to the other side of the street, trying to get away from them. The soldiers were carrying strange, bulky guns, which wouldn't have looked out of place in a science fiction movie. There was a loud, collective hum as the soldiers flicked something on the guns on, arming them. Then on some order they leveled them at the crowd.  
  
Someone started to shriek in fear as everyone panicked. A few people took off running, but turned back because there was no where to go. The street was sealed off at both ends by a wall of guns. Then he felt a sudden grip on his wrist and he looked down into Chloe's fearful eyes.  
  
"Run," she said quietly. "Run!"  
  
One of the soldiers boomed into a mike, "On the ground now! We have you surrounded. Step out of the crowd and no one gets hurt!"  
  
"What?" he asked, staring down at Chloe.  
  
"It's the Luthor Corps!" she hissed at him. "Just get out of here!"  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"This isn't the time to be noble, you don't know these guys!"  
  
"On the ground!" the soldier yelled again, waving his gun. Some people in the crowd started to kneel down, looking around nervously. As they did, one of the soldiers had an unobstructed view of Clark.  
  
"He's got a hostage!" he called. Almost in the same breath someone gave the order.  
  
"Open fire!" 


	6. Firing Squad

Updated: 5/4/03 Chapter 5  
  
In one motion, the soldiers leveled their guns and opened fire on the crowd. Bright, green pulses of light blasted out of the high tech weapons, streaking through the air towards them. People fell as the charges burned through them instantaneously. The blasts tore up the concrete and shattered the marquee over head. Sparks rained down as the old, but still hot, electrical lines inside it were ruptured. A car parked in front of the Talon was perforated in moments. No one but Clark had a chance to move before they were cut down.  
  
Just as the cry came to fire, Clark had pivoted and grabbed Chloe around the waist. As roughly as he dared, he'd hurled her through the boarded up windows of the Talon, hoping she'd be able to find some cover inside. Then the pulses struck him from behind, knocking him to his knees.  
  
Clark had been shot before and knew what the punch of a bullet felt like. This was much worse. He gritted his teeth as he felt the skin on his back burn. Then he felt the familiar kick of nausea in his stomach and realized the green color of the pulses hadn't been a coincidence. The meteor rocks were powering those guns, whatever they were.  
  
Gasping for breath, he crawled behind the wreck of a car. The shock was quickly fading from him and he was already starting to recover. At least the effect of the meteor rocks wasn't very strong, he thought grimly. One of the pulses punched a hole in the car a few feet from his head. But they didn't have to be, he reasoned, not when they had so many of them.  
  
He stared suddenly at the bodies lying around him. A woman looked back him vacantly, part of her neck sheared away by a blast. His stomach heaving, he looked away as another salvo struck the car. How could they open fire on the crowd like that? Who the hell were these people?  
  
"Clark!" he heard Chloe call from inside.  
  
At least she was okay so far, he thought. "Get down," he yelled as another salvo tore the door to the Talon off its hinges. He grimaced and then stared through the car. The soldiers were advancing on the theater in pairs, weapons ready. He had to find someway to keep them back. Glancing around, he finally settled on the car itself. Reaching underneath it, he felt around quickly till his fingers touched the fuel line. Then with one jerking motion, he tore it open.  
  
"Hope they get the message," he muttered as he turned and braced his feet against the car frame. Clark kicked out and sent the car tumbling end over end into the street. The soldiers scattered as the car came to a screeching stop on its side. The ones furthest back shouted as they spotted him and started to raise their weapons. Too late, he thought and he focused his heat vision at the ruptured fuel line.  
  
The car went up in a fireball, the explosion's shockwave sending the massed soldier's flying. Not waiting to see who was left standing, Clark dashed through the ruined doors of the Talon, destroying what was left of the frame. A few random shots smashed into the wood around him, but none came very close.  
  
"What happened?" Chloe called out to him. She was huddled behind an overturned sofa in the remains of the lobby. Clark jumped over the ratty furniture and landed next to her. "I told you to run!" She clutched at his jacket.  
  
"If I did that you'd be dead right now," he hissed at her.  
  
"My uncle's a general," she told him. "He works with Luthorcorp. They wouldn't shoot me."  
  
"They didn't care about the people out there," he snapped. "Why should they start with you?"  
  
She glanced towards the door and her face went pale. "You should have run," she moaned. "You just should have run."  
  
Clark looked back suddenly as he heard the soldiers start to regroup. They'd be ready to storm the building in minutes. "We have to get out of here," he told Chloe quickly. Taking her hand he dragged her up and towards the back of the lobby. "There's a back door here to the alley way," he said. "If we follow that, we'll come out down the." he stopped suddenly, brought up short at a mass of rubble. There wasn't a doorway in sight.  
  
"I guess Lana put that back way in when they rebuilt," he muttered to himself. The soldiers were getting louder outside. Frowning, he stared around with his x-ray vision, looking for an opening they could get through.  
  
"What now?" Chloe said. "How do we get through?"  
  
Clark stopped and then stared downwards. "We don't," he said.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Bending down, Clark clenched his fist and then punched it through the cement floor. Chloe leapt back in shock as he pulled it out and then punched again, widening the hole he'd made. Finally, he stood up and kicked at the edges until it was wide enough for them to slip through. "There's a sewer underneath that's wide enough for us both to get through," he said, staring down the hole. "I don't know where it leads to, but it's our only bet." She just stood there, mutely staring at him.  
  
Finally she managed to choke some words out. "How. how. did you."  
  
"We don't have time, Chloe." He took her hands and led her to the edge of the pit. "Trust me, I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" She stared at him for a moment and then nodded. "Good," he smiled at her. Then he pushed her over the edge.  
  
"Oh, you son of a-" she yelled as she disappeared down the hole.  
  
"Sorry, Chloe," he muttered, turning around towards the door. The soldiers were right outside the Talon now. One of them smashed in one of the windows and started to fire inside. Clark focused his heat vision on the wooden door frame and the ceiling above the door. In a moment, they burst into flame, sending the troops scurrying back once more. That would only buy them a few more moments, he realized, so they'd have to make the most of them. He turned back to the hole and jumped down through it.  
  
He landed in knee deep sludge, brackish water, and who knows what else. He gritted his teeth as he felt something bump against his knee and float away. There was enough dim light from the hole above his head to let him see a few feet in front of his face, but that was all. Not that he wanted to see too clearly in here, he reasoned.  
  
"You bastard!" Chloe yelled at him from a few feet away. She slogged through the water and shoved him. "This is your plan! This!"  
  
"It beats getting shot up there," he pointed out.  
  
"Not when our other option is getting shot down here, it doesn't." He gave her a look and she switched gears. "But I'm all up for running now."  
  
"Glad to hear it." He took her hand and started to slog quickly through the muck.  
  
"How did you do that back there?" Chloe asked him. "You punched through the floor like it was nothing. I've never seen anyone do that."  
  
"Short explanation: I'm not from around here," he said tersely.  
  
"You already told me that," she sniffed.  
  
"No, I mean it. I'm REALLY not from around here," he yelled as they ran down the sewer tunnels.  
  
The soldiers were swift and efficient. The wounded were carried out of harms way and swiftly bandaged up. Three of the soldiers broke out the mobile extinguishers and made quick work of the still burning car. The rest kept their guns trained at the Talon. The front door of the theater was a burning wreck, so they were forced to keep their distance for the time being.  
  
"Get that fire out now," their commander shouted, waving at the three soldiers battling the blaze. On the outside, she might have seemed cool and in control, but inside she was cursing herself roundly. There was no excuse for this. They were highly trained, motivated, had the best technology money could buy, and they had just botched things like amateurs. Damnit, they'd drilled for just this sort of situation and they'd still failed. She felt like screaming at something, but she did not. Instead, she keyed in her helmet radio with a touch of her fingers and looked skyward as an army issue helicopter roared overhead.  
  
"Do you have visual?" she shouted into her comm.  
  
"Nothing yet," came the reply. "Switching over to infrared." She waited tersely, staring at the blaze. He was so close now, she thought.  
  
"Snipers, where are you? Any sign of the target?" she barked into the radio, growing impatient with the chopper.  
  
"We've got two on the courthouse roof and another a block down," one of her men radioed in. "So far, nada."  
  
"If you get a shot, go for the wound," she reminded them. "Make it painful, we've seen how fast he can be."  
  
"Is there any other kind?"  
  
"We've got something," the chopper radioed back. "On the infrared; two signals. Heading southward from the Talon."  
  
"Snipers!" she yelled.  
  
"We've got nothing!" they yelled back. "They're not there!"  
  
Snarling, she started towards the Talon doors. "Come on," she barked at her men.  
  
"What about the wall?" another shouted, gesturing at the Talon. "Shouldn't we put that out first."  
  
In one motion, she drew out a hand gun and fired shot after shot into the top of the burning doorway. The gun wasn't one of the special Luthorcorp models, designed with suppressing the alien in mind, but instead an old fashioned, fifty-caliber magnum. The high caliber bullets tore the door frame and upper wall to pieces. As it collapsed, the flames were buried under a pile of rubble and plaster.  
  
"It's out," she told them, reloading the gun. Snapping the clip in, she took the point, leading them into the abandoned theater. Climbing over what was left of the doorway, she paused, scanning the room. Her men filed in around her, guns ready.  
  
One of her men noticed her standing there, and nodded at her. "You okay?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Fine," she snapped out of her reverie. "You still following them?" she asked into the radio.  
  
"Affirmative. Still heading south. They must be in the sewers; I can't pick them up on visual."  
  
"Copy that," one of her men yelled. "Found the rathole." She followed him over to the gaping hole in the floor.  
  
"We're heading in," she said to the chopper. "Keep us posted." 


	7. Sewers

Chapter 6  
  
"Stop! Just a second, okay?" Chloe asked plaintively. She coughed and bent over, gasping for breath. It was hard to tell in the near darkness of the sewers, but she looked beat. Neither of them looked that good, he thought. The muck at the bottom of the tunnels had started at ankle deep and was now around mid thigh. Slogging through it had left them soaked and filthy. Every time they so much as brushed the walls, they came back with a thick coating of slime on them. On top of that, there was the smell and the loose floor on the bottom of the tunnel. Bits of stone, rubbish, and other things he didn't want to name littered the soupy floor, waiting to trip them up and send them sprawling.  
  
When she managed to catch her breath, she glanced up at him, still bent over. "Why didn't you run?" she asked hoarsely. "I told you to."  
  
"And leave everyone there, you included?" He paused and stared down. "Not that it helped any." He'd never have imagined those soldiers would just open fire on the crowd like that. He shuddered slightly as he remembered the sight of the bodies around him.  
  
"Well, thanks anyway," she said quietly. "I mean, I probably wouldn't be here if you hadn't." she stopped and glanced down at the murky waters. "Well, I definitely wouldn't be here, but you get my point."  
  
He nodded and smiled a little. She stared at him strangely and then looked at his shoulder. Reaching over, she fingered one of the holes in his jacket. "You were shot.," she said quietly.  
  
"I'm fine," he told her, moving her hand away. "Don't worry."  
  
"That's sorta the point though," she said, reaching under the jacket. "You're not even bleeding! And before, you punched through a concrete floor. How did you do that?"  
  
He hesitated, unsure of how to begin. "It's hard to explain. You know how I said I wasn't from here, or at least, this wasn't the Smallville I knew?" As he spoke, he started down the tunnel and she followed after him.  
  
"Yeah," Chloe said. "I'm not sure I know what to think about that right now, but I have to admit that there's not a lot about you that's normal."  
  
"Thanks," he said dryly. "Well, what do you know about the day of the meteor shower?"  
  
"A bit," she said, hopping over a floating lump of garbage. "I was still in Metropolis then, but people still talk about it. Meteor rocks came down all over Smallville, tore up half the town and killed a lot of people. They've got a plaque about it where the old city hall used to be."  
  
Clark stopped, looking at her. "They landed in town?"  
  
"Most of them, I think," she said. "Why?"  
  
"I just remember hearing that most of the rocks came down outside of town," he said quietly. "I guess that's something else that's different," he wondered out loud.  
  
She seemed to consider this and then shrugged. "So where were you doing all of this?"  
  
He looked at her for a moment and then told her. "I came down along with them." Chloe slipped on something suddenly and fell face first into the muck. She came up sputtering and hacking. When she had recovered, she stared up at him in shock.  
  
"You what?" she asked.  
  
"My ship came down with the meteor rocks. My parents found me and raised me as their son. I've been living here ever since."  
  
"Your ship?" she repeated. She blinked and then said slowly, "You're an. alien?"  
  
"Is that any harder to believe than anything else I've told you?" he pointed out.  
  
"It's just a lot of take in," she remarked, looking a little wide-eyed.  
  
"Imagine how I felt when my parents told me about it." He smiled and stared down the tunnel and pointed to a branching path. "I think that one leads out of town." He started down it and she hurried to catch up.  
  
"Umm," she asked hesitantly, "how do you know for sure?"  
  
"About being an alien?" he asked her. "I guess I wondered about it for a while. I mean, I look like everyone else, and I didn't really start to get my powers until I was older."  
  
"No," she cut in, "I mean about the tunnel. How do you know it leads out?"  
  
"Oh," he said, a little put out, "I can see the streets above us. This leads out of town." She looked at him for a moment and then nodded slowly. They walked through the tunnels in silence for a while.  
  
Clark wasn't sure why he had told her his secret just now. It might have been easier to lie to her, he realized, and just make up a slightly more believable story. As if there was one, he thought dryly. It wasn't the sort of thing he could share with anyone. He'd never even told Chloe, his Chloe, about his secret, unsure of how she would take it. Not Lex or even Lana. Pete had eventually discovered, but only when Clark hadn't had anything other choice. Sharing that kind of information with people, once done, it wasn't something that he could really take back if things went wrong. How would she react, he wondered. It wasn't like he really knew her, he reminded himself. She looked and sounded like his friend, but there were a lot of differences. Especially considering how they met. And yet, this was Chloe, he thought, one of his best friends. He knew her, or at least, he knew his Chloe. He shook his head. It was all very confusing.  
  
To break the silence, he asked, "So who were those guys back there?"  
  
She coughed and spat. "The Luthor Corps: the company's own private security force. They're more like mercenaries though. The company keeps them around to do all their dirty work and guard their labs. That's how they were able to buy up most of the land around here. They'd threaten them, cause a few accidents, or worse," she glared, "and people would eventually cave in and just sell."  
  
"How can they do that? What about the police?"  
  
"You mean, old Ethan?" she asked, amused. "He doesn't blow his nose without Lionel Luthor's permission. The police are all bought off; you spot a brand new Lexus in town I guarantee you it belongs to a cop. They don't care what happens to the rest of us. They just go after drifters or people like me," she shrugged. "Same way with the Ledger; it's more like a promotional flyer than a newspaper. No body cares what happens to this town anymore."  
  
"Has it always been like this?" he asked, a little sickened.  
  
"For as long as I've been here," she said wearily. "I guess things started to change just after the meteor shower. Luthorcorp set up shop in that Fertilizer plant you mentioned before, the one your friend owns. Well, they tore it down and built this huge lab where it used to be. It's state of the art. My dad used to work there and he told me about it. He used to say there were all these restricted sections inside and all kinds of top secret stuff went on in there."  
  
"Used to?" Clark asked.  
  
"He died," she said flatly. "There was a lab explosion or something a few years ago." Clark took a quick look at her face, but she seemed not to care. Or at least, he thought, she was trying to look like she didn't care.  
  
"I'm sorry," he told her. "I know your dad, or I knew him," he floundered for a moment. "He was, is a good man."  
  
She shrugged again and walked ahead of him, so all he could see was her back. "Whatever," she remarked, her voice tight. Clark kept up behind her, wanting to say something more, but deciding to keep quiet.  
  
"So anyway," she went on, "after the meteor shower, the Luthors set up shop in Smallville and started to make a lot of donations, saying they were going to help everyone rebuild." She looked back at him and smirked. "You can guess where all those donations wound up though."  
  
"I've seen how Lionel Luthor can corrupt people," he agreed, thinking of Sheriff Ethan.  
  
"Ain't business grand," she laughed. "So pretty soon Luthorcorp had all the city officials in their pocket and owned most of the property in town. They started putting up all these factories, saying they were going to provide new jobs and better lives. Nobody ever mentioned what the jobs were going to be like though."  
  
"What do you mean?" She smirked and pointed to a large pipe sticking out of the wall nearby. The same thick, soupy water that were standing in was pouring out of it noisily. "Luthorcorp," he said grimly, reading the name on the pipe.  
  
"Imagine working day in and day out right next to vats of this stuff," she said, kicking her feet in the water. "Breathing it in when they process it, having it on your hands when you take your lunch break. And it's not like it's just down here and in the factories, there are bogs of this stuff to the north, you can smell it for miles around. It gets in the soil, rots crops out," she wrinkled her nose up in disgust. "And it's not like no one's tried to do anything about it. They tried to strike a few years ago, get better conditions. Luthor just brought in scabs and had the protestors arrested. They never even found some of the guys in charge of organizing it."  
  
Clark listened quietly, strangely enough, wanting to laugh. It was all too unbelievable. This was Smallville, it couldn't be like this. It just couldn't. But something in Chloe's voice made him listen, the dull anger that became more pronounced as she went on. How could it go from such a warm place to this? What had happened here that hadn't in his world?  
  
When she was finished, she brooded quietly for a minute. Clark let her, thinking over everything. Then he looked at her and gave her a little smile. She noticed it and stared back at him. "What, you think this is funny?" she snapped.  
  
"No," he shook his head. "I just wanted to say I told you so." She stared at him. "I told you, you'd be a great reporter. You missed your calling." He shrugged and smiled shyly at her. She blinked and then burst out laughing. He did as well.  
  
Smiling, she looked at him, studying him for a moment. "You are different," she said finally.  
  
"That's sort of an understatement."  
  
"No, you are. I don't know how to explain it." she trailed off. A sudden noise at the other end of the tunnel made him turn around quickly though. "Trouble?" she asked, getting ready to run again.  
  
"They're still after us," he told her quietly. She moaned a little, staring into the darkness. Clark focused his vision through the darkness behind them and concentrated for a moment. The blackness of the sewers fell away as he stared through the walls. He could see skeletons behind them, dim, white figures running in small groups. Most were still far off, but two of the soldiers were getting dangerously close.  
  
"Two of them are near the start of this tunnel," he said quietly, pulling her down in the muck with him. The slimy water came up to her chin as she ducked down and he saw her choke back a gag. "Stay here," he warned her quietly. She gave him a 'do-you-think-I'm-an-idiot' glare and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the water.  
  
Clark reflected briefly on how lucky he was that his eyes wouldn't be hurt by whatever was floating around in that water. And the fact that without x- ray vision, he'd have never been able to see an inch in the murky water in the first place. He swam as quickly as he could down the tunnel without churning up the water behind him like a speedboat. The tunnel hit a T- junction at the end and it was there that he waited underwater, watching the pair of legs getting closer. The soldiers were advancing slowly, with guns drawn, he guessed from their stances. He let his head break the surface so he could see them more easily as he waited.  
  
They were ten feet from the branch of the junction now, then eight, then six. He waited tensely for them to clear the gap. The only sound was the gush of water from a pipe and the sounds of the soldiers' wading through the stagnant muck. Then before he could move, there was a burst of static from the soldiers' walkie-talkies that cut through the silence.  
  
"Target re-acquired!" a voice yelled through it. "Team 3! He's right in front of you, Team 3!" The soldiers leapt back with startled shouts as Clark exploded up out of the water. He knocked one out cold against the stone wall with a brush of his arm and charged the other one. The unlucky soldier had time enough to get off a poorly aimed shot that sizzled upwards into the ceiling before Clark reached him. The shot tore open a steam pipe which started to hiss loudly. Grabbing the soldier's armored vest, Clark lifted him up and slammed the top of his helmet into the ceiling. The soldier stiffened and then went limp.  
  
Clark checked their status quickly with his vision. The one slumped against the wall was unconscious and didn't seem to be too badly off. The soldier he was still holding had a slight concussion, but nothing too serious, he guessed. Before he dropped him, he plucked the soldier's walkie-talkie off his belt and listened in for a moment.  
  
"Team 3! Team 3, respond!" the cry came over it. "We've lost you over the sensor. Report your status. All teams converge on unit's location. Team 6, head down two junctions and take a left, he should be there."  
  
Depressing the call button, he tried to make his voice sound more threatening then it was. "Call them off if you know what's good for them. I can't promise to go easy on them if they keep at this."  
  
"Target is there! Converge on location," the reply came. Snarling, he almost threw it away when he thought better of it and stuffed it in his pocket. It would keep him posted on how close they were at least. He started to slog back to where he left Chloe when the walkie-talkie broke in again.  
  
"Target on the move southward." They were tracking his every move, he realized. How? He stared upwards, through the stone ceiling and the street above it. A helicopter was circling the air above him, panning back and forth. That must be it, he thought. But how where they tracking him?  
  
Unconsciously, his ears picked up on the hiss of steam escaping from the broken pipe. "They lost me when the pipe blew," he muttered. They must be using a heat sensor. Smiling, he started to jog back towards Chloe.  
  
He found her exactly where he had left her. "Are you okay?" she asked quickly, standing up. She touched his shoulder lightly and Clark was suddenly very conscious of her sopping wet shirt.  
  
"Yeah, fine," he said, looking away quickly. She noticed where he'd been staring and laughed.  
  
"Sorry," she said, pulling her shirt off of her skin, unselfconsciously. "But what do you expect me to do, stay crouched over in that muck? And besides," she smiled and pointed calmly to his chest," it's not like you're any better." Clark glanced down and saw how tight his shirt was pressed against his abs and blushed, pulling it away quickly.  
  
"Forget about that," he hissed through her laughter, "we've got bigger problems. They've got a helicopter up there tracking us by heat. It's leading the rest of them right towards us."  
  
"Can't you just, fight them off or something?" she asked. "You know, make with the super strength."  
  
"Wish I could. Those guns of theirs would make mincemeat of me in these close quarters," he said, glancing at the tunnel walls. "But. I might be able to delay them."  
  
"How?" she asked quickly.  
  
"Just start running for now. I'll catch up with you in a minute. I think I can block their sensors."  
  
"Clark, I'm not just."  
  
"Just go, I'll be right behind you," he promised her. She held out for a moment, then nodded. Then, before he could stop her, she stepped towards him and kissed him on the cheek. He stared at her in surprise as she pulled back and made a gagging face.  
  
"Oh, gross," she said and started to retch.  
  
"Not the response I was expecting," he remarked.  
  
"I forgot you're covered in this muck," she told him. She made a face. "Not exactly minty fresh." She spit once more and then smiled lamely at him. "Good luck," she said before running down the tunnel.  
  
"Yeah. you too," he said, watching her go. Then he shook himself out of his reverie and stared upwards. There were a number of pipes running around the ceiling, but it only took him a second to find the right ones. "Hope no one's taking a shower now," he muttered quickly.  
  
Delicately, he started to heat up the water pipes with his heat vision. He didn't want them to start melting, but he wanted to warm them enough to throw off the sensors in the helicopters. When the pipes started to glow a dull red, he stopped and moved farther down the tunnel, repeating the process. Clark could feel the heat begin to build up slowly as he kept at it. Just as he thought, with no where for the heat to go, the tunnels were starting to turn into an oven. Luckily, he was unaffected by the heat, but he couldn't say the same for the smell. Heating up the muck hadn't done much to improve it's smell, and the fumes coming off it were getting thicker.  
  
When he was satisfied, he pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket and listened for a moment. The panic and confusion he heard on the other end made him smile grimly. The helicopter was useless and the soldiers were turning back from the heat and gas. He turned around and started to jog towards the other end. Hopefully Chloe wouldn't be too far ahead already, he thought.  
  
Something roughly the size of a baseball plopped into the water next to him. On pure instinct, he threw himself forwards as it detonated in a burst of green energy. The meteor radiation picked him up like a wave and slammed him into the sewer wall. Masonry tumbled down next to him as he lay there, gasping for breath. Before he could pick himself back up, more of the green blasts exploded by his head. Apparently, not all of the soldiers had turned back.  
  
Clark ducked down, still woozy from the radiation, but he still had enough of his vision left to make out a lone soldier charging him from down the tunnel, firing wildly. The soldier was wearing a full helmet equipped with a gas mask. Using all his strength, he leapt forwards and cleared the distance between them in an instant. Using his momentum like a bull, he slammed into the soldier's chest. He heard her grunt as she went flying backwards, the gun falling into the water somewhere. It was a woman, he thought. In the uniform and helmet, he hadn't noticed. She was lying down the tunnel on her back, groaning. He took a few steps forward so he could check on her when he saw her sit up and unholster another gun. It wasn't one of the futuristic kinds she'd been sporting earlier, but it was still very large.  
  
A chunk of the ceiling blew out as she missed her first shot, but Clark wasn't going to stick around for more. He ran down the tunnels away from her. She kept firing after him, one of her shots even tagging him in the shoulder. It made him pitch off balance for a moment, but that was all. As he left her far behind him, he was glad that she'd been alone. Whoever she was, she was dangerous.  
  
Picking up his speed, Clark found Chloe at the end of one of the tunnels. It looked like the sewers emptied in a large drainage ditch on the outside of town. Chloe stood there by the pipe opening, waiting for him. She was winded, sweaty, and covered in dirt, but she'd never looked better to him. When she saw him stumble out of the darkness, he could see her face light up and then turn red. Without a word, she threw herself at him and held onto him tightly for a moment. He hugged her back silently, then gently pried her off.  
  
"I heard shooting," she said quickly, not quite willing to let go of him. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm stinking, but other than that," he smiled at her. She sighed and shook her head.  
  
"We have to keep moving though," he told her. "I don't know if we really lost them yet. It's better if we find somewhere safe to lie low for a while."  
  
Chloe frowned, thinking. "I might know someone who could help with that," she said slowly. "I don't know if he can, but it's worth a shot."  
  
"Lead the way," Clark told her.  
  
The Luthor Corps captain grunted as she slid the manhole cover off and started to climb out. A gun jammed itself down the sewer entrance though, right into her face.  
  
"Hold it right there!" a young voice ordered her. She rolled her eyes and then glanced at the gun, unconcerned.  
  
"You still have the safety on," she remarked dryly at the soldier who held it.  
  
Stuttering, he jerked it back quickly as he recognized her. "Sorry, ma'am! My mistake." He reached down to help her out, but she shouldered his hand out of the way and climbed out herself. She glanced up and down the street, frowning. She'd come out close to half a mile away from the Talon. Without the helicopter to guide her, she'd been wandering blind down there. It had only been luck that had led her to the alien. Seeing how things had gone though, she didn't know whether to call it good luck or bad.  
  
Sitting down on the empty street, she groaned as she felt something in her chest twitch. All the soldiers were wearing body armor and helmets capable of stopping a bullet, but it couldn't do much against the raw strength of the alien. Feeling under her armored vest, she winced as she probed her ribs. At least two were broken, maybe more.  
  
The soldier stood there dumbly, holding his rifle. "Are you alright, ma'am?" She ignored him for the moment, as she sighed and took off her helmet.  
  
She had short black hair that fell softly around her face, which had an almost exotic cast to it; with slightly almond shaped eyes and an eastern complexion. It was a face of startling beauty, but it was marred by the cold, tired look in her eyes. With her helmet off, someone might have been struck by how young she looked, which was of course because she was young, the youngest to hold her position. She'd trained all her life to get there, sacrificed so much, to get to where she was.  
  
Another soldier came running up the street, holding a phone out. She hissed in irritation and chucked her helmet away in frustration. It bounced and rattled down the street.  
  
"It's." he started to say when he got close, but she cut him off.  
  
"I know who it is." She took the phone from him and sighed before speaking into it. "Mr. Luthor, Captain Lang here." Explaining this wasn't going to be easy. 


	8. Luthorcorp

Chapter 7  
  
Lionel Luthor walked through the corridors of Luthorcorp Labs with a bemused expression on his face. Lex followed after his father quickly, always a few steps behind him. That his place was seemingly always a few steps behind him might have struck him as funny at any other time. Today, he was rather preoccupied, as they all were. Everyone who was permitted in this heavily guarded section of the labs seemed overly anxious. When they saw his father coming, they scattered, ducking down opposite corridors and into rooms. Even the Luthor Corps stationed as guards here, his father's own personal army, seemed on edge. The only person who didn't seem perturbed, Lex marveled, was his father, the one who stood the most to lose.  
  
"How are you dealing with the inquiry, Lex?" His father's question startled him more by the sheer offhandedness of it than anything else. He recovered quickly and gave him a little sneer, trying to feel more comfortable than he was.  
  
"Officially, the Attorney General's still breathing down our necks for human rights violations-"  
  
"Alleged," his father chided him. "Always alleged. Even in private."  
  
"Alleged violations," he corrected himself. "Unofficially, he's all but eating out of my hand. You should see how well I've got him trained."  
  
"Ahh," his father laughed, "I imagine. What was his offer at first?"  
  
"First, he wanted a generous kickback for himself and twenty percent of the stock in key Luthorcorp subsidiaries. He told me in return, he would make the charges disappear. I let him think he had played me, then I handed him the agreement papers with some educational materials included inside."  
  
"Ahh. What sort?"  
  
"Written agreements between him and other Senate officials, transcripts of meetings... That sort of thing."  
  
"That's seems rather unnecessary. A man as crooked as that and you couldn't produce a few photographs?"  
  
"Photographs would have embarrassed him, at the most forced him to resign. Those papers would have destroyed him. His own government would be forced to remove him permanently. I wanted him to know how much you don't like being threatened."  
  
"Such a dutiful son," his father praised him. Lex sneered and looked away. "You always have my best interests in mind, don't you?" Lionel went on, the force of his gaze making Lex look back at his father. His father held his eyes for a moment, then smiled and went on.  
  
"What was the final agreement then?" his father asked him idly.  
  
"Full support of the Attorney General's office, government contracts that we could have gotten without him, and, though he doesn't know it yet, he's going to accept full responsibility for a leak in his office that will so damage the case filled against us that they'll have no choice but to throw it out. He'll resign in disgrace, and then I'll just replace him with someone who doesn't irritate me so much."  
  
His father laughed fondly. "Never share power, Lex. Take a partner as a figurehead, yes, to use as a scapegoat, most definitely, but never share power fully. When you know that you can crush anyone you work with, that is contentment." Lex smiled and nodded, wondering how much of that had been a warning aimed at him.  
  
Officially, Lex wielded almost as much power as Lionel did, acting as his executive assistant and heading up a number of projects for his father. In reality, though, he sometimes wondered how far he was allowed to go. He had never challenged his father on a major decision, not yet at least. What would happen if he did? How far would his father go in response? As far as it took, he smiled to himself. He knew his father well, very well indeed.  
  
The two of them were quite the pair, Lex practically the spitting image of his sire. His face was softer and not as craggy, that he had inherited from his mother, but he had the same wavy red hair and lean build. The same intensity that characterized his father was in his eyes as well. Each had the ability to hold someone spellbound with a look, and possessed an almost raw magnetism. People gravitated to the Luthors, like planets orbiting a pair of stars. Was it all genetic, he wondered, gazing at his father. How much of him dictates who I am?  
  
"I hear the Shark's are having a good year," his father remarked, smiling softly to himself. "What kind of bonus do you think we should give them?"  
  
"I think there are more important things to worry about than that," Lex snapped, no longer able to bear his father's careless attitude.  
  
"There are millions of football fans that would disagree with you," his father responded mockingly.  
  
"You left a retreat in Japan and flew halfway around the world to be here, father. Don't tell me you aren't worried about this." They were at the end of the hallway, in front of the doors to the main labs. From here on, only a handful of people were ever admitted. Lex knew what was inside, but he had never been granted access before.  
  
Lionel stared at him and smiled. Reaching out, he placed his hand on a sensor and waited. The blue pad flashed red and then turned green. With a pneumatic sigh, the heavy doors unsealed and opened. Lex tore his gaze away from his father to look inside. The doors opened up into a narrow hallway, with another security panel at the other end. Lionel stepped inside and Lex hurried after him. He noted in passing, that the doors were six inches thick.  
  
His father walked to the security panel and punched in a code. Lex waited, glancing at the wall in front of them. If there was a seam in it, he couldn't detect it. "Where are the doors?" he asked, trying to sound bored.  
  
In response, the panel beeped once and then started to rise up the wall. Lex looked at it sharply and then saw that the panel wasn't moving, the entire wall was rising up. "Do you know that every time we raise this, it costs us close to ten thousand dollars?" his father asked speculatively. "Someone worked it out; averaged in the cost of fuel for the machinery above us, the cost of the wall, machinery; times it was operated per day. Incredible amount, don't you think?" He shook his head and stepped inside. Lex followed after him, stepping over the small trench in the floor that the wall had risen from. The wall began to ponderously lower as soon as they stepped through. Unconsciously, he glanced up, but he couldn't see the machinery that controlled it. He also noted that the wall was more than a foot thick and seemingly one solid slab of metal.  
  
"Thank God," a nervous voice said at the other end of the lab. A tall, lanky black man hurried across the floor, moving around rows of monitors and computers. "I had you tracked down the minute this came through. It's incredible. A second contact. It's just."  
  
"Yes, incredible, I know," Lionel told him. He took the doctor's hand, steadying him. Lex glanced around the room curiously, keeping one eye on his father. The lab was set up like a lecture hall, sloping down in rows towards a huge set of clear plastic windows. Computers and monitoring equipment filled each of the rows, it was easy to imagine close to a hundred scientists working here simultaneously, though Lex knew for a fact that only five people had access to this room; his father, Dr. Hamilton, his two assistants, and the head of security for Luthorcorp.  
  
Dr. Hamilton glanced at Lex and then looked at Lionel quickly. "It's alright," his father told him. "Lex has been briefed about this before, but hasn't had the full tour yet."  
  
"What about the general? Are we bringing him on this too?"  
  
"I think General Lane can sit this one out for now," Lionel said quietly. "He's a small minded man. Too much information might unsettle him."  
  
"I take it I'm ready for the big picture then?" Lex asked quietly, glancing around.  
  
"You've been ready for some time now," his father corrected him. "Doctor, why don't you bring my son up to date on what's happened?"  
  
"I've read the files, father," Lex protested, eager to get on with the meeting. "That's not necessary."  
  
"It's alright," Hamilton said, barely containing his glee. "I think we're all starting from scratch today. God, this is like fourteen years ago. So much to learn."  
  
"Not quite like fourteen years ago," a voice said dryly from the bottom of the lab. A young girl stepped forwards, dressed in the black and gray Lex Corps fatigues, though they were heavily stained. Her face was smudged and a little bruised, but it couldn't disguise her natural beauty. Only her eyes looked out of place, dead, cold things that didn't seem to belong to one so young. She was only eighteen.  
  
"Right as always, Lana," Lionel told the young girl. She nodded stiffly at him, not bothering to acknowledge anyone else. Lex was almost surprised that her heels didn't come clicking together in salute.  
  
He hadn't agreed with his father on appointing this girl as the head of his security force, but he hadn't opposed it. Her age was certainly a factor in his disapproval, since she was barely eighteen and commanding men twice her age. She was skilled yes, almost a prodigy when it came to strategy and combat. Of course, that came as no surprise when Lionel himself has sponsored her training for the last ten years. Lex suspected that was why he had placed her here, as a personal assurance against espionage. The girl was practically a zealot where his father's interests were concerned. His father trusted her implicitly, much more than his own flesh and blood, Lex noted sardonically. Jealousy might have also been a factor in his disapproval, he admitted, but it was also something more.  
  
Sometimes he feared that Lana's personal feelings would get in the way of her charge. She was committed to Lionel and Luthorcorp, he knew that, but he also knew what kind of hate and will it takes to drive someone like that. He knew that very well. Sometimes, he wondered if she'd planned on all this, just so she could get close to what had hurt her so badly in the past.  
  
"I'm sorry sir," she said stiffly. "We made contact with the second creature, but we couldn't contain it."  
  
"It's all right," he waved her apology away. "You managed to control the situation well. You pursued the creature and we've gotten a good estimate on his abilities. All in all, I think that's a good day's work," he remarked.  
  
"She opened fire in a public street, compromised the secrecy of our meteor based weaponry, damaged city property, and managed to kill no less than ten people while doing so," Lex said. "Tell me father, what qualifies that as a 'good day'?"  
  
Lana shot him a look that he would have liked to frame, but his father brushed the question off. "Dr. Hamilton? What have we learned about the second creature so far?"  
  
"Not much, sir," he said, heading over to a pair of monitors. His father followed him over as Lana turned back to the glass. Lex strolled over to stand beside her. He noted with a bit of disgust, that she hadn't gotten to change her uniform yet. He forgot the smell though as he glanced down through the glass.  
  
The lab glass formed part of a steepled roof to a large room below. The walls were pristine white, the kind that you only found in hospitals and psychiatric wards. At the bottom of the floor was a kind of rough habitat. There was a torn and faded blanket in the corner and a low slung toilet at the far wall. Built into the paneling of another wall was a black computer screen, which occasionally flashed with pictures of landscapes and famous paintings. Lex had read the files on how it was also a crude, touch-based computer system for the subject, which could respond with simple games and passages from selected novels. All of this was for the pleasure of their "guest", who had literally dropped out of the sky over a decade ago.  
  
The alien was currently lying prone on the floor, his face turned away from them. He was dressed in a white smock and pants, his arms and legs encircled by the manacles that his father's scientists had worked so hard on designing. In an emergency, the room's floor would effectively become a giant magnet, with the manacles designed to emit the opposite, attracting polarity. They had rated one of the manacles sufficient to hold several hundred tons of pressure. Based on the data from today, Lex wondered if it was enough.  
  
"I read your report," he said quietly to Lana. She ignored him and continued to study the creature. "Not a bad piece of work for a grunt. I'm sure you had a lot of chances to study him while he was eluding your team."  
  
"I would've liked to see you do any better," she hissed at him.  
  
"Anyone could've done better. You get an alert that someone's walking around town who just happens to bear a close resemblance to our subject and you rush into a crowded street, guns blazing. What if it'd been a coincidence? You could have ruined us all." She didn't respond to that. He leaned in close to her ear.  
  
"It must eat you alive that there's another one walking free. Especially when he looks so much like our's does. When you think about it, it's almost like he's actually free," Lex nodded down towards the glass. "I guess I can see why you'd go after him. For as much good as it did."  
  
Finally, she turned towards him, her hand slipping down to the gun holstered at her side. "Are you questioning my abilities?"  
  
"Just your methods," he told her.  
  
"Well the next time you do, I want you to remember something, Lex," she said, her hand resting on the butt of the gun. "For as much good as it did, he ran from me." He held her stare for a moment, and then sneered and looked away.  
  
"Oh, children?" Lionel called to them. "If you could turn your attention to the good doctor for a moment, he'll kindly tell us what we've determined so far." Lex and Lana glanced at each other and then turned back to the doctor.  
  
"Yes, well, as I said," Hamilton started, "it's not much. We have the visual data collected during the skirmish, but not a lot of DNA samples to take back. There was a skin scraping on some of the concrete, but we believe that's human in origin."  
  
"The girl," Lex supplied. "I'll have her identity in a few hours. We're still analyzing the tapes."  
  
"Good. Well, aside from that," Hamilton went on, "there isn't much to go off of. We know it's similar in appearance to the first subject. Height, facial features are almost a complete match."  
  
"What do you think of that, doctor?" Lionel asked. "Coincidence?"  
  
"Maybe; maybe not. Their species could just all physically look alike and rely on other means of distinguishing the other," he shrugged. "Or we might not even be advanced enough to determine their differences. Like an ant saying that all humans look alike."  
  
"Perhaps," his father said. He didn't sound very certain however.  
  
"How about our other guest?" Lex asked quietly. "Did she have any response to this?" He noted that Lana's head suddenly jerked up and Hamilton's expression grew guarded. His father hardly blinked, simply stood there, thinking.  
  
"I haven't put the question to her yet," Lionel said finally.  
  
"There was some unusual activity." Hamilton started to say when Lionel overrode him.  
  
"What else do we know?" he demanded firmly.  
  
"Uh. the subject, the new one," Hamilton corrected himself, "is a great deal stronger than the first. Whether that's based on a longer exposure to the sun or some other reason, we can't determine yet."  
  
"The guns barely effected him," Lana added. "And it shook off a burst grenade in a few seconds. A charge that size would have put the other one out for hours."  
  
"We'll have to boost the charges on the guns then," he said. "Double the output radiation."  
  
"Why stop at doubling it?" Lex asked snidely. "I mean, it's already powerful enough to burn through a human being, why stop there? Why don't we turn all our soldiers into a walking reactor? How does that strike everyone?"  
  
"And what would you suggest we do, Lex?" his father asked him. "Containing this creature is our first priority now."  
  
"Yes, it is," he agreed. He cast a sidelong glance at Lana. "At least now it is."  
  
"Care to explain that," she asked him, acidly.  
  
"The first creature's arrival was a fluke. Probably an accident at that. After all, if an alien species wants to make contact with us, why send a lone child to do it?" he asked them. "Most likely, this second creature was sent to retrieve the other, as part of some larger delegation."  
  
"Are you saying there could be more of them here?" Hamilton asked, worried.  
  
"If there's one, there's probably another," Lex remarked. "We've learned that today at least. And if there's two. who knows how many are out there? With an unknown number of them, this isn't the time to make any more mistakes."  
  
"Mistakes!?" Lana practically spit out. She stopped and tried to get herself under control.  
  
"Yes, mistakes. Yours," he said, keeping her off balance. He needed her angry for this to work. If she was angry, she'd get careless and make a mistake. He glanced at his father quickly, but he was impossible to gauge.  
  
"There creatures could've come here peacefully," he went on. "They might not have even known that the first alien was here at all. We should have approached them cautiously and determined their intentions, not opened fire immediately." Lana glowered at him.  
  
"It's a little late for that," she snapped at him.  
  
"Of course it is," he went on smoothly. "Now we have to respond with full force. You showed the second one we're hostile and then you let him get away. If he's in contact with any others, they'll know as well. It's not going to take them very long to realize that if we found them so quickly we must have already known they were out there"  
  
"So what are you suggesting we do about it?"  
  
Got you, Lex thought triumphantly. "First, we have to contain the second creature. We have to capture it now, or kill it."  
  
"Kill. but a specimen like that." Hamilton protested. Lionel raised his hand, cutting him off.  
  
"You already have one doctor, don't be greedy. Lex, go on," he said.  
  
"Secondly, we have to strengthen security around the first," he said, nodding back towards the glass wall. "If we lose him, we lose everything this company is built on. The technology, the science, everything. We can't let that happen. And just to be certain that no more mistakes are made, I'd like to take charge of all this."  
  
"What? You?!" Lana almost exploded. He ignored her and focused on his father. Lionel stood there, his arms folded, a small smile playing about his face.  
  
"Out of the two of us, I seem to be the only one with a clear grasp of the situation," Lex told Lana without taking his eyes off his father. "You've already put us at risk once with your personal feelings. I wouldn't want them to impair your judgment again," he told her coolly.  
  
"Sir," she pleaded with Lionel. "You can't let him do this. I can recapture him. I can!"  
  
"I know you can, dear," he told her genially. He hesitated and then went on, "But in this case, I think Lex may be right. Perhaps a more level head is required for this."  
  
"But sir," she said, utterly devastated. It was so easy to manipulate her, Lex thought. She really was just a child after all.  
  
"Now, Lana," Lionel told her gently. He touched her chin and lifted her head up. "I still have an important job for you here. After all, there are things more important than our visitor that need protecting." She stared at him for a moment and then nodded fiercely.  
  
"I won't let you down, sir," she swore. He smiled and touched her cheek fondly.  
  
"I don't doubt it." He looked over at Lex and smiled. "I have the utmost faith in both of you. You are my partners in this. Always remember that." Lana gazed at him in adoration, but Lex could only smile back uneasily. How much does he really trust me, he wondered again. How much, and how far? 


	9. Explanations

Chapter 8  
  
They ran for about an hour, slogging through the ditch and then into the cover of the tall corn fields around town. They'd heard a few helicopters roar over their heads, but with Clark's vision giving them ample warning, they'd stayed out of sight so far. Clark was exhausted from the fight, and the constant fear of being discovered. Chloe looked even worse off, stumbling and gasping for breath with every step. She didn't complain though, and he was forced to revise his opinion of her. She was clearly a lot tougher than he'd thought, a lot like the Chloe he knew from his home.  
  
She saw him looking and gave him a weak smile. That was another problem, he thought. It was too easy to forget that he didn't know this girl, no matter how she resembled his Chloe. But they were so alike, he argued with himself. Maybe the differences weren't that deep in people after all. Maybe even in this world, Chloe was Chloe.  
  
"I think we can rest here," he said finally when they came into a small clearing. He glanced upwards, scanning the treetops. "We can't stay long, but we should probably wait until dark before we go out again. There's enough cover so that they won't be able to spot us unless they stop right overhead."  
  
"Thank God," she sighed, sinking to her knees. Groaning, she rubbed her calves and winced. "I haven't run that hard since, well, I'd say gym class, but I didn't even do it then."  
  
"You kept up pretty good," he told her, leaning against a tree.  
  
"Thanks." She stared at him speculatively. "Especially for someone without superpowers," she remarked.  
  
"They're not all they're cracked up to be," he told her seriously. He sat down on the ground and stared upwards, thinking.  
  
She laughed. "Right, I'm sure. The whole part about being stronger and faster than everyone else must be real drag." She smiled at him knowingly. "Can you tell me you don't get off on all that?"  
  
"Sure, that part's fun," he admitted, "but there's a lot more that goes with it. I'm not just stronger than everyone else, I'm a lot stronger. Like what happens if I get mad, or get in a fight with someone? Heck, I don't even have to be mad to really hurt someone; I could just not be paying attention and shake their hand too hard." He looked at her sadly. "I couldn't even play sports as a kid because I might wind up crippling someone by accident."  
  
"That does kind of suck," she nodded, "but what about everything else? I mean, can you imagine what I would do if I those powers?"  
  
She looked so excited, he thought. Shaking his head, he laughed a little. "No, what would you do?" he asked, playing along.  
  
Chloe floundered for a moment and then sat up, excited. "Well for starters I've got a few ex-boyfriends I wouldn't mind visiting. Then some teachers, and this old social worker of mine, who was just so annoying with her little BMW that was like, her pride and joy. I think I'd take it apart piece by piece and leave it out on her lawn so it'd be the first thing she saw when she went outside." She smiled, clearly picturing it. Then she shrugged and leaned back again.  
  
"Then? I don't know," she remarked. "I'd probably show my uncle what for. Show him I'm not worthless, you know?"  
  
"Does he think that?" Clark asked.  
  
"He's always down on me," she replied. "Always expects me to be so much better, huh? Like his daughter, as if he'd know. He didn't even bring his family to live with him here; he sees them like twice a year. The rest of the time he's stuck with me." She sighed loudly and lay down on the ground, staring up at the sky. Then she sat up suddenly and pulled a lump of paper out of her jacket. Peeling a soggy bill off of the stack of bills, she sighed. "Easy come, easy go," she muttered, tossing the ruined lump of money away. Then she lay back again and was silent. Clark chose not to comment about it.  
  
"You know," she said after a minute, "this has got to be the strangest day of my life. Not just 'so far', but probably 'it', the strangest day ever."  
  
"Oh?" he asked, looking up at the sky as well.  
  
"Well, I'm sitting here with a guy who's an alien, and if that wasn't enough, he's from a parallel world or something, and together we just got away from a bunch of hyped up commandos by slogging through practically all the industrial waste in town," she said in a rush. She paused and considered it. "That last part wasn't so fun though. I could've done without that."  
  
"I'll say. I'm the one with the super senses, remember?" he told her dryly.  
  
Chloe laughed wearily and was silent for a while. Clark though she'd fallen asleep, when she murmured suddenly, "I can't do it."  
  
"What?" he asked her.  
  
"Sleep. I just can't do it. It's like, what if this is just some weird dream I'm having. What if I go to sleep and I wake up in my own bed?"  
  
"I can pinch you," he offered.  
  
"I don't think I want the guy who can punch through concrete to pinch me," she shook her head. Clark smiled and then looked away. He got up and slowly walked around the clearing, staring about aimlessly. She noticed the worried look on his face. "Clark, what is it?"  
  
"Just thinking about what you said. About this being a dream. How do you think I feel?" he asked her, turning around. "I went to school this morning with a Chloe Sullivan whose hair was about a foot shorter and spent all her time worrying about laying out the next issue of the school paper. And then suddenly I'm here, standing in front of the same girl who's now only interested in grand theft auto."  
  
"Thanks," she muttered.  
  
"Sorry," he said, realizing what he'd said. "It's just. this would all be easier for me if it was a dream. As strange as it's been for you, at least you're home. You've always known things to be this way." He reached into his jacket and brought out the meteor rock he'd picked up earlier. Holding it up, he stared at it intently. It lay dully in his hand, not affecting him in the slightest. "For me," he told her, "nothing's the same here."  
  
Clark sighed and then looked up at her. Tossing the rock up and catching it, he asked her, "Do you know what this is?"  
  
"Sure, it's a meteor rock," she shrugged. "They're everywhere."  
  
"Have you ever heard of them doing things to anyone? Changing them?" he explained.  
  
Chloe frowned and held out her hand. He tossed her the stone and she caught it smoothly. Turning it over, she shrugged, thinking back. "I'm not sure, maybe. I think I might've heard something once, but that was a while ago. I never really paid attention to that kind of stuff though. I know what everyone else knows. The rocks came down in the meteor shower and that's it. Luthorcorp said they were going to collect them all for some reason, but I guess they scrapped that 'cause there's still so many of them lying around. Other than that, they're dull, not too pretty, and you can't sell them for anything. If there's anything special about them, you'd have to ask somebody else, sci-fi stuff was never that interesting to me."  
  
He laughed briefly and backed up, looking at the sky. The sun was just starting to sink across the horizon. "What's so funny?" she asked.  
  
"You. or the you that I know, loves that stuff," he told her. "She did a report once in front of the class about how the X-Files was actually a documentary and that the government was passing information about alien abductions through the commercials that went with it."  
  
Chloe stared at him and then wrinkled up her face, thinking intently. "Well that's weird. I don't know whether to laugh or feel ashamed about that," she remarked. "Anyway, I bet you're like her ideal guy; tall, dark, and not from this planet." Then she hesitated, "Not that that's my ideal guy, you know., just hers. Even though I guess she's me. I'm not explaining this right," she commented.  
  
"She doesn't actually know," he admitted.  
  
Chloe turned around and gave him a strange look. "You haven't told her? But you told me, and we just met today."  
  
"I haven't had to reveal my powers in front of her yet," he said. "As long as she doesn't have to know."  
  
"Right, you'd probably want to keep the whole E.T. vibe to yourself. I get it." She jumped off her rock and started to pace around. "How much longer do we have to wait?" she asked impatiently.  
  
"Another hour and it should be dark enough to sneak out."  
  
Her face fell and she went back to her rock. Leaning against it, she waited, sighing. "So. Tell me more about myself," she said brightly. "Boyfriend? Car? What?"  
  
He winced. "I don't know if I should. Don't they say it's not wise to know too much about things like that?"  
  
"That's knowing about your future, Clark," she remarked dryly. "It doesn't apply for parallel worlds."  
  
"It's the same concept," he argued.  
  
"Fine, we won't talk about me." She shrugged and then smiled wickedly. "We can just go back to talking about you then." She leaned across her rock, staring at him intently. "So tell me," she said, tilting her head, "any other differences I should know about?"  
  
"Uh?" he stuttered, confused.  
  
"I mean, from what I can see you look normal enough, but are you like that all over?" she asked smiling.  
  
"So what do you want to know about yourself again?" he asked quickly. She laughed and rolled her eyes.  
  
"The usual, family, friends, cute boyfriend, job, cute boyfriend, life in general. So tell me all about myself."  
  
***  
  
Why is my life like this, Lana wondered. She'd thought that so many times over so many years that she'd stopped even registering the question. It was just a refrain in her head, like a bit of a song that looped in the background. It had gone on for so long that she'd stopped even trying to find an answer.  
  
She stalked through the halls of the lab, inwardly fuming. How dare he! The alien was her assignment, how dare he just swoop in and take it! Lex, that waste of flesh and blood that Lionel doted on. How could he take all this away from her? How?  
  
Maybe she could still convince Lionel to change his mind. There was still time. She checked her watch quickly and realized where he'd be at this hour. Backtracking, she walked quickly through the halls. Members of the security team saluted as she passed them, but she barely noticed, she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts.  
  
Maybe she had overreacted a little, she allowed, when she saw the alien. She'd opened fire in a crowd, but that had been necessary. It had all been necessary. The alien had brought nothing but pain and death into everyone's life and when she'd seen the second one, standing there, the spitting image of the first, something had snapped in her. But people had died, she reminded herself. She'd given the order and people had died, and they had nothing to show for it. It had been necessary, she repeated. Everything was always necessary.  
  
Suddenly she felt so tired. It came over her like a wave, sweeping away her her anger and frustration and leaving behind only an empty ache. "Just tired," she muttered to herself. She should have rested more after the battle. Three cracked ribs wasn't something you could just shake off. Digging into her side pockets, she pulled out a tiny vial and shook three pills out of it. She stared at them for a moment, and then popped them in her mouth and dry swallowed them. It was so hard sometimes, the training, the fighting, the wear of the responsibility and duty, so much.  
  
"Still things to do," she told herself, clenching her eyes shut. "Still things to do."  
  
"Lang," a strident voice called out. She opened her eyes wearily and turned around. A robust looking, middle-aged man in a crisp, army uniform was approaching her. Behind him, six armed soldiers marched behind him.  
  
"Can't go anywhere without a parade, can he?" she muttered under her breath.  
  
"Lang, what's this I've been hearing all morning?" he demanded angrily as he came closer. She couldn't help but notice how his uniform was freshly starched and his boots gleamed, while her own Luthorcorp uniform was still badly stained and sticky from the morning's battle. She hadn't even had time to change out of it yet. "Lionel's been shutting me out and I can't get a straight word out of anyone here," he rasped at her.  
  
"General Lane," she sighed, "thank you for your concern, but we're perfectly capable of handling things on our own."  
  
"Are you really going to hand me that corporate bullshit?" he asked her, leaning in close. She closed her eyes again briefly as he went on. "Where the hell is Lionel hiding himself? You people have been stonewalling me all day."  
  
"Mr. Luthor has been in meetings all day and-" she said, starting to walk away, but he kept up with her.  
  
"People being shot in the street? Gutting a theater? A full, goddamn search in progress through most of town? Any of these pop up in the meetings?"  
  
"We're handling this, General," she stated again.  
  
"How about a goddamn head's up next time?" he yelled at her.  
  
"That wasn't my call," she replied as calmly as she could. "Besides, it wasn't your troops that were involved, and it was a very tense time for everyone here. If you were kept out of the loop, I'm sure it was an. oversight."  
  
"I'm sure it was. Look, I know the government gives you and your boss a lot of leeway with your contracts and running your own private security force," he remarked, glancing at her. "We stay out of a lot of what goes on here, but in case you've forgotten we're still in charge here. You, and your boss, you both answer to us in the end."  
  
"Is that the official government stance, General?" Lex spoke up from behind them. They all turned suddenly to find him standing there, watching them quietly.  
  
"Lex," General Lane said, glaring at him. "At least there's one Luthor who isn't afraid to show his face."  
  
"I'd be careful what you say about my employer," Lana warned him swiftly.  
  
"I wouldn't be too worried about that, Lana," Lex smiled at her. "My father's been called a lot of things in his life, most of them by me, and he's still here. As long as no one goes carrying tales, I'm sure the General won't need to apologize for it." Lana stared at him quietly. What was Lex up to now? He didn't stand anything to gain by helping her.  
  
"Like hell I will," Lane swore. "If anyone owes someone an apology it's Lionel. What the hell has been going on here today, Lex? A shoot out in town, a search, what's happening and why wasn't I informed?"  
  
"You and your men aren't here to investigate Luthorcorp," he remarked.  
  
"My men are here as a show of good faith from the United States Military," the general raged. "They are here to help guard your facilities."  
  
"Your men are here to essentially guard their own bunks," Lex smiled. "We protect our own here." He nodded at Lana, surprising her for a moment. "We're grateful for the assistance of course, but it's by no means required."  
  
General Lane bristled as the skin on his neck turned red. "For the last time, where is Lionel?" he rasped at Lex.  
  
"I was just on my way to see him now," Lana spoke up. "But I'm afraid he's in a restricted area. I can carry him a message if you want."  
  
He stared at her for a moment, silently fuming. She waited patiently as Lex stood there smiling casually at her side. Finally, the General shook his head roughly. "No," he said in a thick voice, "I can wait to see him later. Tell him I need to speak with him though." She nodded and he turned quickly, marching through his escorts.  
  
"Oh, General," Lex spoke up suddenly. "I was wondering how your niece was doing." Lana glanced at him strangely as the General turned around to give an almost identical look.  
  
"Fine," he said, put off. "She's just fine."  
  
Lex smiled and nodded genially. "That's good to hear." General Lane stared at him for a moment and then continued back down the hall. His escort turned and accompanied him.  
  
Lana waited until the last of his escort had turned the corner before she turned to Lex. "That was unlike you," she told him.  
  
He shrugged. "There're enough people muddying the water right now, we don't need any outside interference. We don't have time to baby-sit the General anymore."  
  
"What was that bit about his niece? I didn't even know he had family."  
  
"He had a brother who used to work for Luthorcorp; died in an accident a few years ago, leaving behind a daughter. While he's stationed in Smallville, the General's been looking after her, while his own family is still back east."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"You know how we were looking to identify the girl in the attack earlier?" he asked her, smiling.  
  
She stared at him. "You're joking! His niece?"  
  
He smiled and nodded. "Doesn't that make things more interesting?" he muttered. "I'm not sure he even knows she's gone missing yet."  
  
"What'll we do when he does find out?" she asked him. "He's going to be impossible to deal with then."  
  
"Let my father deal with that. Lane is right about one thing, he does represent the U.S. army in this, he'll have to be handled carefully." He glanced at her quickly and dropped his voice even lower. "Speaking of my father, you wouldn't happen to know where he's disappeared to now, would you?"  
  
She smiled, glad to be privy to at least one thing Lex wasn't. "Just like I told the General," she smiled. "He's in a restricted area." She waved her arm down a long stretch of hallway that ended in another set of security doors. The words, 'Lab 2', were stenciled on them in bold letters. Lex frowned as he stared at the entrance, making her smile.  
  
"I didn't know you had access," he said quietly. "I thought only my father and Hamilton were allowed-"  
  
"Didn't you hear?" she asked, enjoying throwing it back in his teeth. "Since you took over the search, your father's promoted me to guarding her."  
  
"Did he?" he gritted through this teeth.  
  
"Were you planning on snapping that up too?" she smiled at him. "He'll never trust you with her. He knows what you'd do with her power."  
  
"But he trusts you." He smirked and shook his head.  
  
Lana glared at him angrily. "What's that mean?"  
  
"I don't know which one of you is more misguided about the other. My father ordered you to bring the creature in alive today, didn't he? But you were shooting to kill. Was that part of his plan?" She looked away quickly, gritting her teeth. "And you think my father really values you," he went on. "I hate to disappoint you, but to him, everyone's just a tool, a weapon to be used. You, me, the General, the alien, and even what's inside those doors," he nodded towards the lab. "We're all just little pawns in his eyes, Lana."  
  
"Let me give you a little bit of advice, Lana. Be careful of how far you go. If he has to sacrifice you to keep the alien, he will. And for her," he nodded towards the lab, "he'd probably throw us both to the lions. Just something to think about."  
  
He turned and strolled down the hallway, his hands stuck in his pockets. She stared after him, her thoughts tumbling over each other in confusion. Finally, she tore her gaze away from him and glanced at the lab doors nervously. How much would Lionel sacrifice for what was inside, she asked herself nervously.  
  
"He trusts me with this," she told herself quietly. "He trusts me." Somehow, it didn't seem to make her feel any easier. 


	10. Closeness

Chapter 9  
  
"Uh," Chloe moaned again. "I'm tired of walking. Can't you carry me and just run there super fast or something? You said you could do that."  
  
Clark looked back at her and smiled. "Sure, except I don't know where I'm going," he pointed out. "It's your friend we're after, remember?"  
  
"So, I can give you directions." She knelt down and rubbed her calf muscles. "I'm really tired now."  
  
"Not a good idea to run through the woods that fast. I mean, I'd survive if I trip or run into a tree, but you probably wouldn't." He glanced over at a dead looking tree branch. It was almost three inches thick. With one hand, he reached out and snapped it off, leaving the exposed, jagged end sticking out. "Catch my drift?" he asked her. She stared at the inch long splinters sticking out from the branch and nodded. "We can take a break though," he told her. She sighed gratefully and flopped down on the ground. He smiled at her and then walked over to the edge of the forest, looking out into the fields.  
  
They had been walking since it had gotten dark hours ago. Chloe had said that a friend of hers could help them stay hidden, but unfortunately he lived on the other side of town. With Luthorcorp soldiers after them, it wasn't like they could just cut through the town, so they were forced to take the long way around, past the farms and fields on the outskirts. Staying just inside the forest gave them cover from the air, in case any of the Luthercorp helicopters passed over head. It had been a while though, since they'd seen any sign of their pursuers.  
  
"Sorry if I'm slowing you down," Chloe said, sitting up. He looked back at her and shook his head.  
  
"Don't worry about it. If anyone should be sorry, it's me, I got you into this."  
  
"Heh, I guess you should be. If you'd just kept me out of it, you'd be here alone right now and I'd be dog food," she remarked. "Remember? Besides, it's not like you knew what would happen."  
  
"Still," he said, "I don't. I didn't mean for any of this. Soldiers after us, getting shot at." He stopped, looking troubled. "People are dead because of me. Just because I was near them, they were. They barely gave them a warning." Chloe looked down and rubbed her ankle absently. "I didn't mean to even be here," he went on. "I was just walking home and then... I don't know why, or how any of this.," he trailed off. "I just wish I was home," he said dejectedly.  
  
Chloe shifted her eyes away awkwardly and picked a bit of grass out of the ground. "Well, there's not much I can do about that," she admitted quietly. "I mean, if you need someone to tell you about what bands are good, how to hotwire a car, or pick a lock, then I'm your girl. Aliens and parallel worlds, not so much. Best I can do is get you somewhere safe and maybe help you on the way." She smiled at him and he had to smile back.  
  
"And for what it's worth: there's one person who's glad you're here," she told him. "You took on the Luthorcorps and won. No one's ever done that. Keep it up; you'll be our very own superhero."  
  
He snorted and shook his head. "You know what that makes you then?" he asked her.  
  
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a dirty look. "If you say 'sidekick', I'm going to have to hate you." He smiled at her. "But if you decided to carry me for the rest of the way though," she remarked, "I might agree to be the comic relief. Or devoted fan."  
  
"Ready to move on yet?" he asked her. She groaned and sat up noisily.  
  
"Sure, whatever. What's a few more miles anyways?"  
  
They traveled slowly through the woods. With his sharper vision, Clark was able to keep her from tripping over any roots and low lying branches, so they made good time. He was even able to create a path for her through some of the rougher undergrowth. Chloe for her part, complained all the while, but she kept up with him, no easy task, he realized. He didn't get tired or scratched up from the bushes and tiny branches that grasped at them from the sides of the path. When the temperature started to drop, he passed her back his coat, not needing the extra warmth himself. She smiled gratefully at him and kept close behind him.  
  
After a half hour more, suddenly she gave a cry and almost collapsed on the path. He rushed back to her and knelt down beside her.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
She was curled up, holding onto her left calf tightly. "Fucking leg," she hissed. "It just tightened up and I can't move it." Ignoring the string of curses she was muttering under her breath, he concentrated his vision on her leg for a moment.  
  
"Nothing's broken," he said quietly, then nodded as he pulled his vision back, seeing only the muscles and tissues in her leg. "Cramp," he announced. "No wonder, walking for hours in the cold air. Painful, but not too serious."  
  
"No kidding," she muttered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Now there's my Chloe," he remarked dryly. She arched an eyebrow at him and he looked down at her leg quickly. He started to massage her leg gently. She winced a little as he tried to loosen the cramp out. After a while, he could feel her muscles start to relax and unknot. "How's that feel?" he asked her.  
  
"Not bad," she smiled at him wickedly. "If say, 'higher', what happens then?"  
  
He blinked and then felt himself go red. She laughed and started to climb to her feet, but stopped her. "No, I think you should rest for a bit," he said, quickly. He turned around and bent over. "Well, come on. Looks like you're getting a ride after all." He was glad it was too dark for her to see how red his face and ears were.  
  
"Knew you'd see it my way," she told him and hobbled over to him. She climbed onto his back, and he straightened up, carrying her piggy-back. "Um," she said slowly, "I'm not going to be too heavy, am I?"  
  
"Hey, super strength, remember? Uh. not that I would need it or anything," he recovered quickly.  
  
"Swift move there," she muttered into his ear. Grunting, he adjusted his grip on her legs and started down the path. Chloe was small enough so that she could rest her head on his shoulders and it wouldn't be that uncomfortable. Being uncomfortable like this wasn't the problem, he thought slowly. Quite the opposite in fact.  
  
Warmth was a concept Clark had always had trouble with. He could easily withstand temperatures that might have scalded the flesh from anyone else, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel them. He could tell when something was hot, or cold, but it was the degrees that were harder to define. To him there was little difference between room temperature and sticking his hand in a fire. If he really concentrated, he could tell one was hotter than the other, but the difference was truly slight to him. Carrying Chloe through the forest, feeling her pressed against his back; gave him a new insight into what warmth really meant.  
  
It might have just been an overactive imagination, or his powers picking up the slight vibrations, but he could have sworn he felt her heart beating against his back. What he knew he could feel was her breath against his neck and her arms draped around his shoulders. He carried her through the forest, staying at a steady jog and trying not to jostle her too badly. When they came to a rather steep ravine, she tightened her arms across his chest as he slid down the one side. It wasn't until they had climbed out the other side that she loosened them again. She had a strong grip, he thought to himself.  
  
"Like at the dance," he said quietly, not realize it had slipped out.  
  
"What dance?" she asked him.  
  
"Uh, nothing. Forget I said anything." She shrugged and put her head down on his shoulder. This might not have been such a good idea, he thought to himself. I keep forgetting that even though she looks like Chloe, she's not my Chloe. Heck, I don't even know how I feel about my Chloe. I shouldn't be leading her on like this.  
  
You're just carrying her, he argued with himself. What's so bad about that? And who's leading who on here? You just met the girl today; you're just friends, that's all.  
  
"It's not that easy," he muttered.  
  
"Hmm?" she said. She sounded just on the verge of falling asleep.  
  
"Hey, are you awake? You're supposed to be leading me here," he reminded her, shrugging his shoulders gently to wake her. "I don't even know where we are."  
  
"Thought you were supposed to be from around here," she muttered and yawned. "Well, via Jupiter or something."  
  
"Very funny. Where I come from, the forest doesn't start until about three more miles back. It's all farmland and houses." He paused for a moment. "A lot of what I remember is different now."  
  
"Then let me down and I'll see where we are. Shouldn't be too much farther." He knelt slightly and she slid off him. Keeping on her good leg, she flexed her other gently and then tried standing on it. When she was comfortable doing that she hobbled slightly over to the forest's edge and peered out across the fields. Clark watched her quietly, staying back in the shadows.  
  
"What did you see?" he asked when she finally hobbled back. Chloe steadied herself and zipped up the coat he had lent her.  
  
"We're about a half a mile from his place. We just need to cross over this field and a road and we should be there."  
  
He nodded and stood up quickly. "Do you still need." he started to ask, but she shook her head.  
  
"I can make it. Besides, if anyone passes us, it'll look more suspicious if you're carrying me."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I didn't think of that," he admitted.  
  
"I told you," she pointed out with a hint of pride, "hotwiring a car, or acting inconspicuous, I'm your girl."  
  
He didn't know quite how to respond to that, so he just let it past. They left the forest's shelter quietly, keeping low to the ground as they crept into the corn field beyond it. Luckily, it was late enough in the season for the stalks to be high enough to shelter them. He could hear Chloe crashing around behind him, but he didn't look back to check on her. He kept his eyes forward, scanning with his x-ray vision for any potential dangers. There was a darkened farmhouse at the far end of the field, but it was far enough away not to worry about. Past the road though, was a different matter. An entire row of houses faced the road's edge, and more than half of them were brightly lit. Sneaking past them wouldn't be easy.  
  
They reached the end of the field and paused, crouched behind the last of the corn stalks. Chloe waited beside him tensely, looking up and down the road. "Well?" she asked impatiently after a moment. "It's clear, let's go." She started forwards, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.  
  
"Car's coming," he whispered quietly to her. He saw her puzzled look and shrugged. "I can hear it."  
  
"There's no lights," she said, looking down the road in both directions.  
  
"That's what worries me."  
  
After a moment, they could both hear a car engine rumbling towards them and a darkened jeep appeared slowly out of the darkness. It coasted by the road at a crawl. Clark stared inside for a moment and then quietly pulled Chloe back farther into the field. She didn't resist, never taking her eyes off the jeep. It pulled past them and then slowed to a halt. They both waited tensely as it sat there. Chloe glanced at him quickly, and then angled her head back towards the forest. He shook his head slightly in response and stared inside the car with his x-ray vision.  
  
Finally, the jeep started on again, but they waited till it was out of sight before they breathed a sigh of relief. Chloe leaned back, almost panting and shook her head. "Okay," she said, "that's it. We have to find some cover now. I can't take much more of this."  
  
Clark was forced to agree with her. It felt like he hadn't stopped moving since this afternoon. Then again, as he realized, he actually hadn't. "Lead the way," he told her, gesturing towards the road.  
  
Nodding, she got up and hesitantly walked out of the field. He followed after her, glancing around quickly. They both stopped at the edge of the road and glanced down it in both directions. Then they did it again. Chloe breathed out in irritation. "What, are we in preschool?" she muttered and deliberately started across the road. Clark blinked and then caught up to her, walking close behind.  
  
With Chloe leading, they walked up someone's front lawn and slipped through the grass section between two neighboring houses. Another pair of backyards were joined onto the first two, and past that, another street. "It's that one," she muttered to him, pointing at a certain house on the opposite side of the street.  
  
"Right," he said quietly and followed her across the lawns to the next street. So far, no one seemed to have noticed them.  
  
"What did I tell you?" she asked, as they headed across the street and up the sidewalk. "No problem." He nodded as they reached the door. He glanced back nervously for a moment, checking the street. Chloe run the doorbell quickly, glancing through the tiny windows in the side of the doorway. The house looked darkened and it seemed to be empty.  
  
"What if they're not here?" Clark asked her.  
  
"Trust me," she smirked. "This guy doesn't have anywhere else to go. Not much of a life. He had a store in town, until some people set it on fire. Town thinks he's a big jerk, and I have to agree, but he hates Luthorcorp more than anyone else I know. He'll help us."  
  
"He sound's promising."  
  
"Hey, he's the best I got," she snapped. "I mean, I know a lot people, but I don't really have many. friends. At least, friends, or family, who wouldn't turn us both in." Clark shrugged and glanced at the mail slot set into wall next to them. She rang the doorbell again and they saw a light flick on inside. "See, like I said," she smiled.  
  
"Yeah, no problem," Clark muttered, reading the name above the slot. It was 'Fordman.' 


	11. Fordman

Chapter 10  
  
The door creaked open a foot and Whitney Fordman peered out at them. At least, he looked like Whitney Fordman. He had the same blond crew cut and pale blue eyes, but his face was more thin and haggard. Clark blinked at him, mentally taken aback to see someone who was dead in his own world. "What do you.," Whitney started to say, when he caught sight of Chloe and stopped himself. "Oh you have to be kidding me," he said and started to slam the door in their face.  
  
"Wait a minute," Chloe yelled and threw her shoulder into the door. It stopped an inch short of closing and held there as Whitney pushed back. "We need your help, you dumb bastard! Let us in!"  
  
"After what you did?" he snapped, through the open space. "Not a chance, psycho!" He pushed back hard and narrowed the opening to a thin sliver.  
  
Chloe grunted and put her whole back into it. "C'mon, that was a while ago, and it wasn't really my fault." He shook his head and struggled to shut the door.  
  
"Care to explain any of this?" Clark asked her quietly, staring at the back and forth war going on.  
  
In between grunts, she gasped out, "You remember how I said somebody burned down his store? Well, I was sort of a spectator to it."  
  
He gaped at her. "Chloe!"  
  
"Hey, it wasn't like I helped," she insisted.  
  
"Help start it or help put it out?"  
  
"Okay. neither, but there was a lot of people there and nobody else did anything either."  
  
"That's right," Whitney snapped, still trying to shut the door. "The Luthors don't like how I run my store; speak out against them; so they pay off some guys to trash it. Cops don't show up to stop them, no one answers the fire alarms, everyone's all been paid off. They burned my store to the ground, my father's store! And you stood there and watched! So why should I help you with anything?" he demanded.  
  
"We don't have time for this," Clark muttered, glancing down the street as he did. Another car could come by any moment and spot them. He stepped forward and pushed the door easily open with one hand. Whitney fell back in surprise as he stepped through the doorway. Chloe huffed slightly and followed him, shutting the door behind them.  
  
"I almost had it," she sniffed.  
  
"Of course," Clark remarked, studying Whitney as he lay there on the floor. He was a lot slimmer and under-developed than he remembered the Whitney from his world as having been. His arms and legs seemed almost gangly as he lay there in a heap. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt over a pair of faded jeans, neither of which looked like they'd seen an iron before.  
  
"I'm gonna call the cops if you don't get out of here right now," Whitney warned them.  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes and kneeled down next to him. "You do that. I'm sure they'd love to have an excuse to check your house out." He winced and glanced away quickly. "Like I thought," she said with a grin. "Rumors are true about you."  
  
"Maybe they are," he muttered. He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. "Just do yourself a favor and get out of here. You're just wasting your time."  
  
"Sorry, we need help and you're going to give it to us," she disagreed.  
  
He snorted and gave her a look. "Or what?"  
  
Chloe smiled. "Clark? Show him what happens when people disagree with us." She folded her arms and waited, grinning wickedly. Now they were both staring at her. When nothing happened, she started to get flustered. "Well, come' on! Melt his leg off!"  
  
Clark rubbed his forehead briefly and turned to Whitney. "Sorry about that, it's been a long night and she's. a little on edge."  
  
"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Make with the eyebeams. Toast his leg; a foot, a toe; a toenail! Anything!"  
  
"Is she on something?" Whitney asked him quietly.  
  
"Excuse us a minute," he told him quickly. He grabbed Chloe's arm and pulled her back a few feet in the hallway. "I'm not going to do that, okay?" he told her in a loud whisper.  
  
"What do you mean? You beat the crap out of those guys in the sewers." She glanced over his shoulder at Whitney. "Just lean on him a little. It'd do him some good."  
  
He stared at her for a moment and then turned around, his breath whistling out between his teeth. He walked over to Whitney and took his shoulder, pulling him away from Chloe. "It's been a very long night," Clark apologized. "Look, I'm sorry to do this to you, but we're really in a lot of trouble."  
  
"Welcome to Smallville," he laughed shortly.  
  
"It's with the Luthors." Whitney looked at him quickly and he went on. "I'm. not from around here, and somehow I wound up number one on their hit list, and I don't know why. I ran into Chloe earlier, she's an. old friend, and now she's in as much trouble as I am."  
  
"She was in a lot of trouble to start with." He looked Clark up and down. "And don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really strike me as an old friend of hers."  
  
"It's a very long story."  
  
"This would be so much simpler if you just burnt his foot off," Chloe remarked.  
  
Whitney frowned, glancing back at her, but Clark pulled him around again, trying to talk over her. "Well, anyway, she thought you could help us. Information, shelter, anything would be great. We just need a place to lie low and figure things out for a while." Whitney frowned and shrugged off Clark's hand. He took a step back and studied them for a moment, thinking.  
  
"You say Luthorcorp is after you?" he asked finally.  
  
"Gee, only a couple times already," Chloe rolled her eyes.  
  
Whitney ignored that. "Come with me," he told them. He led them through the house, kicking piles of dirty clothes and pizza boxes out of the way. Clark wrinkled his nose up at the smell, but didn't say anything.  
  
"You know, it's something when I'm the one grossed out by a place, Whitney," Chloe remarked behind them. She lifted the lid of a pizza box with her foot and glanced inside. "Lovely. Cheese with what I sure hope is broccoli. You have anything that doesn't come with a side of penicillin?"  
  
"In the other room," he shrugged. They came to a particularly heavy looking door in the back wall of the room. He produced a key and unlocked it, holding it open for them. As they stepped through, both Clark and Chloe had to blink in shock. The room they'd just entered was as neat and ordered as the rest of the house was a sty. There were no windows, but a row of lights on the ceilings that lit the room brightly. There was a made bed and nightstand in the corner, with cabinets overflowing with books in another. Another corner had been made into a small kitchenette with a portable mini-grill, a microwave, and a refrigerator. There was even a table and chairs in the middle of the room.  
  
"Well, I can see where you've been spending all your time," Chloe remarked, glancing around. "Why live like this?"  
  
"It's a disguise," Clark told her quietly. His eyes were drawn to the last corner of the room. "And I guess I see for what." The last corner was devoted to an impressive looking hookup of monitors, hard-drives, modems, and other systems, connected by bundles of wires that snaked around and over the equipment. The machines hummed and whirred quietly, creating a steady background drone in the room.  
  
"Where did you get all this stuff?" he asked in amazement. He didn't know much about computers, but these looked to be top of the line machines.  
  
"Here and there," Whitney said cautiously.  
  
"And I suppose it's just a coincidence that they all say 'Luthercorp' on them," Chloe pointed out.  
  
"I have a deal with someone inside," he told her testily. "I help him out with a few things, he makes sure a few of the latest items fall off the back of the truck, so to speak."  
  
"And people call me a criminal," she sighed.  
  
Whitney rounded on her fiercely. "I'm only a criminal to the big suits and money lenders." He sneered. "The people who just sit around taking things without giving back. What about you? What have you done for anyone recently?" She bridled and started to reply but Clark broke in.  
  
"I can tell you she helped me today," he said. "I don't know if I could have gotten through this without her." Whitney sneered again and shook his head. "She brought me here because she thought you could help us. Luthorcorp wants us for some reason, and we need you to figure out why. You say you want to help people," Clark told him, "well here's your chance."  
  
Whitney studied him for a moment, frowning. Finally he looked over at Chloe. "Just how the hell do you know him, Sullivan?"  
  
"Oh," she said, pulling a chair over and turning it around to sit in, "we go way back." She gave him a demure little smile and tilted her head a bit.  
  
"So will you help us?" Clark asked him. Whitney looked back at him and didn't say anything for a moment. Then he turned and walked over to the array of computers.  
  
"I'll give you a fair chance," he told them evenly. He sat down in the patched and ratty chair in front of the monitors. "That's more than I owe Sullivan, anyways."  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're just a well of generosity, ain't ya, 'Fordman'?" she asked, stressing the name.  
  
"You have no idea," he said, bending down. "Here we are." He sat back up with a shotgun in his hands. It looked freshly polished and coldly professional. Clark and Chloe stared at him in shock. He cocked it loudly and leveled it at them. "Nice to know everything didn't burn up in the fire, eh Chloe?"  
  
Clark stepped in front of her deliberately and glared at him. "And what do you expect to do with that?"  
  
"Like I said, I'm giving you a fair chance," he promised them. "You just wait there and let me work. I can hack into some Luthorcorp systems, no problem with this," he said, nodding towards the computer set-up. "Not to mention the police and local FBI mainframes. If you're story checks out, and they do want you, then everything's fine. If not, well."  
  
Chloe laughed and stood behind Clark, peeking over his shoulder. "I almost wish we were lying," she told him. "Just so I could see the look on your face when you pull the trigger."  
  
"Chloe," Clark warned her in a low voice.  
  
"You might get that chance," Whitney told her. He lay the gun down on the top of the nearest screen, keeping the barrel facing towards them. "Now lets see here," he started, sitting down in front of a monitor. "Just make yourself comfortable," he told them dryly.  
  
Clark gritted his teeth in irritation and glanced at Chloe. She shrugged and laughed a little. "So is he a big ass where you're from too?" Chloe asked him.  
  
"He once hung me up in a cornfield in my boxers," he admitted.  
  
"Ooh, I like this story!" She laughed again and sat forward eagerly. "Tell me more!"  
  
He coughed into his fist and looked back at Whitney. "So what's the verdict?" he asked. Whitney glanced up at him briefly.  
  
"I just started," he remarked. "You're going to have to give me a little more time." He frowned and looked up at him. "A name would probably help too. I know Sullivan well enough, from her rap sheet as much as anything." Chloe smiled at him and flipped him off.  
  
"Right," Clark realized. "Sorry about that. It's Clark Kent." Whitney frowned and looked up at him for a moment. "What? What is it?" he asked, seeing the look.  
  
Whitney frowned, lost in thought. "I've heard that name before," he muttered.  
  
"I have parents here. The Kent's, they have a farm outside of town?" Clark supplied.  
  
Whitney did look up then, his eyes wide. "The Kent farm? About three miles out, past Sales road?" he asked.  
  
Clark nodded quickly. "You know it?"  
  
"Yeah," he said slowly. "Luthorcorp owns it." He looked for a moment like he was going to say more, but then he looked back down quickly. "They own a lot, though." Clark stared at him and then glanced over at Chloe. She shrugged helplessly.  
  
"Didn't realize the Kent's had a son though," Whitney remarked, not looking up.  
  
"You knew them?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Yeah," he said slowly. "Something like-" he was cut off as his computer chimed once. "Here we are," he said, leaning forwards. "Well what do you know," he said, smiling. "Chloe Sullivan speaks the truth. They've got your mug shot up and everything."  
  
"Ass," she muttered under her breath.  
  
Clark stepped around the desk and looked over Whitney's shoulder. "What does it say about me?"  
  
"Mmm." he scanned the page. "Basic description, no name. It's red-flagged though. And I do mean red-flagged." He stared at the screen. "I've never seen them put out this many warnings. It looks like they've put everyone who has anything to do with Luthorcorp on full alert." He sat back, shaking his head. He almost sounded impressed with all of this attention. Clark and Chloe shared a quick, worried look.  
  
"I don't know what you did to them," Whitney told them, "but they want you bad." 


	12. Girl Troubles

Chapter 11  
  
The doors to Lab 2 finally opened with a pneumatic sigh and Lionel stepped out. Lana straightened to attention, waiting for him to notice her. She'd managed to grab a quick shower and a change of uniform in the meantime and had been waiting for more than an hour for him to emerge. He didn't notice her right away, he simply stood there, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Then he glanced up, noting her, and a slight smile touched his face. "Lana," he greeted her simply. He looked over his shoulder at the closing lab doors and the smile faded from his face. "Anything else to report?" he asked her quietly, still gazing at the doors.  
  
"No, sir. There were a few false positives that were reported, but nothing solid." He turned his gaze back on her and she swallowed, feeling his displeasure. "It's just a matter of time, sir."  
  
He said nothing and started to walk down the hall. Surprised, Lana fell into step slightly behind him. She glanced behind them at the receding lab and noted his preoccupied expression. "Did you ask her about the alien?" she ventured carefully.  
  
He considered that and nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, I did."  
  
After a long moment, she asked, "And?"  
  
"And she wouldn't answer me. She claimed he was blocked from her."  
  
"But I thought that was."  
  
"Impossible," he laughed, "yes, to a human. Certainly it's the first time she's been unable to answer a question before. Yet he may be able to shield himself from her. Perhaps it's possible, or perhaps not." He stared off into space, contemplating it.  
  
"Would she have any reason to lie to you?"  
  
Lionel frowned and nodded. "That is something to consider." He was silent for a moment. "Anything else?"  
  
"We've identified the girl with the alien. She's General Lane's niece."  
  
He looked at her, surprised. "Are you certain?" She nodded. He considered it for a moment. "Does the General know about this development?"  
  
"We don't believe so, sir. He hasn't been alerted." She hesitated. "We thought it best if we let you be the one to judge what to do with this. There's no hurry though. It seems the two didn't have a very close relationship in the first place. From our reports, she's been missing from home since last week."  
  
"Very good," he murmured. He smiled at her one-sidedly. "It was Lex's idea to keep the General in the dark, wasn't it?"  
  
Lana blinked in surprise, but controlled herself. "Yes," she said slowly. He nodded.  
  
"He is quite brilliant, wouldn't you say? But what else could be expected from him?" They arrived at a pair of sturdy, metal doors and Lana started to excuse herself, but Lionel waved her on. "That's not necessary, I want to speak with you some more." She was surprised, but nodded quietly.  
  
He pressed his hand against the sensor to the side and the door's swung open softly. The room inside wasn't any cold and sterile science lab, but actually a warm, paneled study built for Lionel's private use. She had only been inside it a few times before, and was always surprised by the richness in the air as she stepped through the doorway. It was such a difference from the cold, filtered air outside. Lionel touched a few buttons on a panel on the wall and softly, a light sonata began to play. He smiled and stepped over to a cabinet, freeing a bourbon bottle and glass.  
  
"Care for anything?" he asked her quietly. She shook her head, a little off balance from the offer. He poured one for himself and then studied her for a moment. Lana shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling anxious. She fought back the nervousness and waited, raising her chin. "Something's bothering you," he remarked, finally.  
  
"I'm fine, sir. There's nothing wrong."  
  
"Lana," he said reproachfully. "Who raised after your parents died? Who took you in, gave you a home, an education? Who arranged for you to study with the greatest masters, all because you insisted on doing so?" He sank into the leather chair behind his desk, still watching her. "Who gave you an opportunity to shine here?"  
  
"You did, sir." Her voice was hardly any more than a whisper.  
  
"Then who would know when something was bothering you, hmm?"  
  
"You would, sir."  
  
He smiled at her genially. "It's Lex, isn't it?" She winced and bit her lip, not trusting herself to look at him. He swirled his drink slowly, watching the liquid in his glass. "It's alright," he told her gently, looking back up at her. "I understand. You're upset because of what I decided."  
  
"I don't." she started.  
  
"Do you think I made a mistake?"  
  
"No! No, that's not it!" she said sharply, her head snapping up. "I would never doubt. I just feel. I. don't trust him."  
  
"Lex has shown himself to be very dependable in the past," he reminded her. "More than capable as well."  
  
"I don't like how he talks to you," she said quietly.  
  
"He's impatient for power." He sipped his drink and smiled appreciatively. "Much like I was at his age. But trust me, he knows his place." Then he put his glass down and looked at her sharply. "But that's not what upset you, is it?" She stared off into space for a moment and then shook her head. "Tell me."  
  
She flinched visibly. "Was. Was I right, today?" she asked hesitantly. "To order my men to open fire? Those people are dead now. because of what I did. I couldn't stop myself, I saw him standing there and there was this roaring in my ears." She took a breath, and let it out heavily. "And then suddenly I was yelling and firing and everyone was firing and when it was over-" She looked down, her face tormented.  
  
"Go on," he said gently.  
  
"When it was over, part of me knew it was wrong, but another part of me didn't care. I just stepped over their bodies and went on with the mission." She was quiet for a moment and then looked up, watching him. "Was that right?"  
  
Lionel seemed to measure her for a moment, and then he gave her a small nod. "The taking of life, human life, is always a heavy act," he explained to her gently. "But you had no choice. It this sort of a situation, there are rarely good choices." He smiled at her sadly. "To be a leader, means being able to make some choices and do some things that others would not be able to. And sometimes it means shutting your emotions off, making yourself into stone for a time. It may seem horrifying now, but we have to put things into perspective. The alien could've killed hundreds if he had been left alone. With what we know from the first, there's every reason to believe that he's just as violent and destructive. Your quick thinking could have saved countless people today."  
  
She listened quietly, clearly still upset. He saw her confusion and he shook his head sadly. "If anyone is to blame, Lana, it's me. I shouldn't have laid such heavy burdens on one so young. Please forgive me."  
  
"No, it's not your fault," she told him quickly. "You've done everything for me, I wouldn't have anything if you hadn't. Please, I can handle this," she swore to him. "I need to be here"  
  
"Because of your parents?" She froze, blinking fiercely. "Because of what he did to them?" Lionel asked.  
  
"Yes," she said horsely. "He took everything away from me."  
  
"You were so young then," he murmured. "How old were you, four, five? To lose everything in a single instant. You must have felt so alone." She closed her eyes, remembering the horror of it. Her arms started to tremble at her sides.  
  
"Your only family an aunt who didn't want you. Everyone else too busy with their own tragedies to care about you. You had no one, you were no one."  
  
The ringing in her ears drowned out all the music, deafening her. Lionel watched her silently, waiting. "Until you," she said, forcing it out.  
  
"Until me," he smiled. "You won't let me down, will you?"  
  
"No, sir," she said wearily, feeling so drained. "You can count on me."  
  
"I do, Lana." He sat up and walked around his desk again to face her. She looked away, uncertain, as he reached up and brushed her cheek softly. "I think of you like the daughter I was never blessed with," he said quietly. She felt herself go red, but was unable to move away. He raised her chin gently and her eyes were helplessly caught in his gaze.  
  
"You are such a beautiful, capable girl," he murmured. "So strong, yet so fragile, like polished glass, balancing on a point." She stared into his eyes, unable to move or even look away. The music seemed to reach a crescendo behind them. Lionel smiled at her, and then stepped back and turned away. Just as suddenly, the spell was broken, and she took a step back herself involuntarily. She clasped a hand to her chest, feeling her heart racing.  
  
"I'll be making another trip out to the site this morning," he remarked, picking up his glass from the desk. He refilled it at the cabinet and turned to her, swirling his drink again. "That won't be a problem, will it?"  
  
It took her a moment to collect her thoughts, but she nodded. "No, sir, I'll arrange a detail."  
  
"That's fine. I think that will be all tonight." He sipped his drink and turned back to his desk, waving her away.  
  
"I. uh," she hesitated. He looked back at her, surprised. "I saw the Talon today," she went on.  
  
He thought for a moment, and then nodded to himself. "You're parent's theater, right?"  
  
She nodded. "It was. worse than I remembered." He waited, watching her. "I was thinking," she said slowly. "Luthorcorp still owns the property. Maybe we could rebuild it or something."  
  
"Of course," he smiled at her. "I'll get some people on it right away. It'll be as good as new before you know it."  
  
"I was hoping I could help out with that. Maybe be put in charge of it?"  
  
"Lana," he said reproachfully. "You know we don't have time for that. We'll put someone else on it. Someone we can spare." She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.  
  
"That's a good girl," he told her, waving her away.  
  
***  
  
Chloe stepped into Whitney's computer room in the midst of wrapping a towel around herself. She had left them to their research in favor of a hot shower. As she came back inside, Clark practically choked as he caught a glimpse of her adjusting the towel. His eyes went wide as he watched her stand in the doorway, dripping wet. What happened next was unintentional, but probably unavoidable. His vision shifted briefly, and he caught a more intimate glimpse of her before he jerked his eyes away, staring at the floor.  
  
As he tried to not think about what he saw, his mouth betrayed him by blurting out "When did you get a tattoo!"  
  
Chloe and Whitney stared at him, she amused, him puzzled. He peered over his monitor at her and shrugged. "I don't see any tattoos."  
  
She smiled and looked down at herself. "I don't see any either, Clark. Do you?" she remarked, barely holding back a laugh.  
  
"Just forget it," he muttered, not trusting himself to look at her again.  
  
She laughed wickedly and then turned to Whitney. "I thought about washing my clothes, but I think a bonfire's the only way to deal with them now. You have anything else for me to wear around here?"  
  
He stood up and walked over to the kitchenette, snagging a coffee cup and filling it from a nearby pot. "You mean aside from my towel?" he remarked dryly. "You can check the boxes in the back of the house. There's some stuff I saved from the fire. Should be something in there for you."  
  
"Thanks," she said. Then she glanced over at Clark and grinned again. "The showers all ready. If you need any help finding it, just call me." Laughing, she turned around and left, the towel's edge flipping up a little as she walked off. Clark looked away again and caught Whitney's eye. He was watching him, his eyebrows raised questionably.  
  
"It's not what you think," Clark muttered. Whitney rolled his eyes and went back to work. He balanced the coffee mug on the corner of the desk and stared at the screen, ignoring Clark. "I'm serious, we're just friends," he tried to defend himself.  
  
"'Just friends' means a little different with that girl," Whitney remarked.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Clark asked him slowly.  
  
Whitney stopped typing and looked up at him, smiling slightly. "Just things I've heard. We never really ran in the same crowd in high school, but I saw what she was like. 'Course I stopped going about a year ago, so who knows, maybe she's changed. I doubt it though." He went back to typing but then stopped again and looked up, frowning.  
  
"Speaking of which," he asked, "how do you know her?"  
  
"We're old friends," Clark told him angrily.  
  
Whitney smirked and looked back down at the screen. "I guess you'd know her best then," he remarked. Clark glared at him, but didn't say anything in response.  
  
He stood there for a minute, listening to Whitney type away, and then he turned suddenly. "I'm gonna go take a shower," he announced.  
  
"Sure, you do that," he replied, not bothering to look up.  
  
"I mean it, I am," he insisted.  
  
"Wonderful, Clark, but it's not anything special. Trust me, you're won't be the first guy to get there."  
  
Clark opened the door and paused, looking back at him. "I'm still talking about the shower."  
  
"Oh well, same goes." He didn't even bother to look up as he said it. Grumbling, Clark slammed the door behind him, hard, and listened as he heard the coffee mug fall and shatter. He smiled as he heard Whitney yell in shock and start to curse as it spilled all over him.  
  
That sentiment was fleeting though as he walked through the darkened hallways. He heard Chloe humming softly to herself in the next room and he stopped, mentally preparing himself. When he was ready, he knocked quietly. "Chloe?" he croaked. He tried again after clearing his voice. "Chloe? Are you decent?"  
  
"Am I ever?" she asked through the door. "But yeah, you can come in anyways." He took another breath and opened the door, shutting it behind him as he stepped inside. Chloe was in the middle of pulling a tight, gray shirt on. She smiled at him and turned around, showing off. "He didn't manage to save much, did he?" With the shirt she had on a pair of jeans that started a few inches below her navel. She kicked a box full of shoes and bent down, rummaging through them.  
  
"Chloe, I think we really need to talk about something," he started. She turned around and waited, smiling. "I know we don't know each other very well, but I meant what I said earlier. I don't think I could've gotten through today without your help."  
  
"Hey, no biggie," she said, stepping close to him. "I'm sure you would've done the same for me. In fact," she touched him lightly on the chest, "you did do the same for me, didn't you? At the Talon?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess I did," he stammered.  
  
She smiled and stepped even closer. "So let's see: once for saving me from the dogs, another at the Talon. I helped you find Whitney, so that just means I owe you one, don't I?" Clark was having a hard time thinking straight, listening to her. She was so close now, both of her hands on his shoulders. Chloe glanced at his shirt and smiled. "You still haven't had a shower yet, have you? Why don't we take care of that right now." Her hands slipped up into his neck and latched into his hair, pulling his head down.  
  
Clark said something in surprise, but it was muffled against her lips. He tasted her for a moment and then he took a step back, staring at her. She was no less surprised, still standing there, with her arms out. "What?" she asked, a little hurt. "What's wrong?"  
  
"We can't." he swallowed and looked away. "We can't do that."  
  
"Why not? I thought you wanted to.." her voice trailed off. "Why can't we?" He hesitated, searching for the words. "What? Is it, me?" she asked.  
  
"No!" he told her. "It's just. we're. you and me, we're just friends okay?"  
  
"Friends?" she asked, staring at him.  
  
"The two of us, well, the other you really. We're not together. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Things are getting a little confused, and I just wanted you to know some things. It's complicated, but I'm sort of with someone else. I didn't want to lead you on or anything, making you think there was anything ever between us."  
  
Chloe stared at him, her face flat. "Between me and you?" she asked him, her voice like a whip, "or between you and that other me?"  
  
"What?" he started.  
  
"You think I haven't noticed?" she demanded. "It's like you've been dropping all these hints today about you and this other me, whoever she is. You just went on and on about her, but now there's this other girl, huh? Where's she been all day? You haven't mentioned one word about her now, have you? Or gone looking for her? Have you done that, even talked about it? No, it's just been Chloe this and Chloe that."  
  
"You're the only person I've seen all day that I know," Clark yelled at her, starting to get a little angry. "What was I supposed to do, leave you and go running around for someone who could be dead for all I know?"  
  
Chloe folded her arms and stared at him coolly. "Maybe you should," she replied. "I'm not what you remember, maybe they'd be."  
  
"And what if they're not?" he asked, his voice starting to crack. "It was enough of a shock meeting you today, but what if, when I find them, it's even worse?"  
  
"Worse?" she repeated coldly. "Worse?"  
  
"I didn't mean it like that," he said, hissing in irritation.  
  
"What did you mean then?" She waited; her eyes like daggers. "Let's get one thing straight, okay?" she told him. "I'm not your Chloe. I'm not her. I'm me, myself. I'd don't know or care about what she's like. I don't care if she's a saint; she's not me. You think I've been hanging out with you all day because you said we were friends somewhere else? I could've blown you off anytime; I stuck around because I wanted to. And now I'm not so sure that was such a good idea." She stormed past him and out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Clark stared after her, but couldn't think of anything to say that would get her back. 


	13. Appearances Can Be

Chapter 12  
  
"So this is what I've got," Whitney said, spinning around in his chair to face him. Clark blinked wearily and tried to focus on him. He hadn't slept a wink the whole night and it was starting to tell. Not that he hadn't tried, he thought to himself, but after the argument with Chloe he hadn't been able to rest. "You alright?" Whitney asked him, noticing his lack of attention.  
  
"Yeah, fine, just a little tired." He stood up and walked over to the computer monitors. Squinting at them, he forced himself to read the text on the screen.  
  
"When's the last time you slept?" he asked him.  
  
"Last night."  
  
"Amateur," Whitney scoffed. "I don't really do that too often myself. Not when there's nature's alternative." He waved his mug and set it back down, turning back to the screen. "If I ever switched to decaf I'd probably fall into a coma."  
  
"You said you had something," Clark reminded him, bringing him back on track.  
  
"Right. Well, basically, we're looking at an across the board alert here," he gestured at the screen. "Everybody on the Luthorcorp payroll or mailing list has been put on notice about you. File clerks, plant managers, factory workers; roughly 80% of the people who have a job in this town are on the look out for you."  
  
"That many people?"  
  
"Smallville begins and ends with the Luthors, Clark," he sighed. "Believe me I wish it wasn't true."  
  
He breathed out and then shrugged. "Well, all the emails and alerts, that's the general stuff, kid's play to dig that out," he went on. "I got all of that in the first hour. Hacking the encrypted stuff, scanning their frequencies, that takes longer. I still can't get into all of their files yet, but I think I caught the important pieces."  
  
"Is anyone going to be able to trace what you're doing?" Clark asked him.  
  
Whitney laughed and then smiled at him strangely. "I've got a backdoor into their system. Trust me, no way they could trace this." Clark nodded dubiously and continued to read.  
  
"Is this the Luthorcorp mainframe?" he asked, a little surprised.  
  
"One of the smaller servers," he shook his head. Glancing around, he asked, "You going to get Chloe for this?"  
  
Clark winced and looked away. "That might not be a good idea. She's. worse off than I am. Let her sleep."  
  
Whitney studied him for a moment and then nodded. "Fight, huh?"  
  
"I don't really want to talk about it," he remarked. Whitney shrugged and turned back to the screen. "So, what else have you found?"  
  
"Well, I have what they have, or what I can find of it," he started. Whitney pointed to a section with his mouse and highlighted it. "They've got a description of both of you, an ID on Sullivan, no ID on you yet, but they do have a whole page of warnings about you though. All of this is the general info, what's been passed onto the police and FBI," he explained.  
  
"FBI?" Clark gulped. "The government is after us?"  
  
"Sure, why not?" he replied offhand. "Officially, they'll supervise the search. Unofficially, they'll leave it to the Corps. I doubt you'll even see an agent in town. Smallville is pretty much cut off from the rest of the country these days. Government steps back and lets Luthorcorp take care of all of us. They call it ensuring the security of contracts. Luthorcorp builds and runs a lot of things for the government, half of them the rest of the country probably doesn't know about."  
  
"What else?" Clark asked, a little sick to his stomach.  
  
"Well, it gets more interesting the deeper you dig through their system. These warnings, they're pretty detailed," he said, bringing them up on the screen. He read them aloud. "'Please note that the subject should be considered extremely dangerous. Do not approach or provoke in any manner. Do not attempt to fire on or subdue the subject in any manner. Report any sightings to the nearest Luthorcorp office.'" He shook his head. "Seems kind of extreme for just a teenager. Any idea why'd they be so afraid of you?"  
  
"No," Clark said carefully. It was the truth, he rationalized, he didn't know why they'd be afraid of him. Whitney shrugged and went on.  
  
"That's everything that was sent inside the city limits, farther out, at some of their more rural stations, things get a bit weirder. They talk about reporting any unnatural disturbances; lights in the sky, sounds, crop circles, cattle mutilations." He paused and made a face. "I wish I made that last one up by the way," he remarked, "but it's there. Since this afternoon, it's like the entire county's been put on X-Files alert."  
  
"Uh huh," Clark said slowly. This was all hitting a little close to home for his tastes. How could they know this much about him already?  
  
"Is that it?" Whitney asked him. "'uh huh?' I think you'd be a bit more concerned about this."  
  
"I'm just a little overwhelmed," he said quickly. "It's not every day I'm public enemy number one." He leaned in to get a closer look of the screen. Whitney watched him closely as did so.  
  
"You know, there's one more thing I forgot to mention," he told him. There was something in his tone that made Clark look up anxiously. "Two hours ago, they sent an order to have three of their satellites positioned in a geo-synchronous orbit directly over Smallville."  
  
"They're searching for us with satellites?" Clark asked in a strangled voice.  
  
"Yeah, except they're all pointed the wrong way; straight up." He fixed Clark with an intense stare. "Care to tell me what they're looking for?"  
  
Clark looked back at the screen, his throat suddenly dry. "I don't know what they expect to find," he replied.  
  
Whitney pursed his lips and nodded. He sat back in his chair, thinking to himself. "I realize I haven't given you every reason to trust me just yet," he said quietly. "We only met a few hours ago, and through Sullivan, who I have to admit, is not my favorite person," he shrugged. "But you can trust me. If you're in this against Luthorcorp, I'm with you. I owe them that much."  
  
"I don't want to be against anybody," Clark remarked, walking away. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Whitney. "I'm not from here. I don't anything about what's going on. I stepped into this town today for the first time and people started shooting at me. No reason, no explanation, they just started firing. They cut through a crowd, just because I was there. And I don't know why!" he shouted, slicing his hand through the air.  
  
Whitney shrugged and looked sympathetic. "They did it because they could, as for why." he sighed and turned back to the computer. "It might be in here somewhere, we just have to keep looking." He paused and looked back at Clark speculatively.  
  
"What?" he asked, seeing the look.  
  
"You feel bad about what they did to those people today?" he asked suddenly. Clark blinked and then frowned at him.  
  
"Of course I do, what kind of question is that?"  
  
"What I mean is," he said, "how far would you be willing to go to make sure that doesn't happen again? To make things right? Maybe get some answers while we're at it?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Clark asked him carefully.  
  
Whitney smiled. "There might be some people I know who could help you. I think they'd be interested in meeting you. With all the bad press about you, they'd be really willing. Any enemy of Luthorcorp would be a-" he was cutoff suddenly by a buzzing sound from a device on the wall. A read light on the device started to blink quickly. Whitney spun around and keyed into the computer as Clark stood there, staring around wildly.  
  
"What it is?" he asked. "What's happening?"  
  
"I've got a security system set up for the house. Someone's trying to get in," he replied tersely. "I locked the house up tight and turned it on as soon as you got here." He paused and looked up. "No one followed you here, right?"  
  
"No, no one," Clark said. "What are you doing?" he asked, as Whitney started to type at the computer.  
  
"There's a camera outside the front door, should tell us who's there." He pulled up a video window on his computer screen and stared at it. There definitely was a figure there, playing with the lock, but they couldn't make out anything. "Too dark," he muttered. "Maybe I can change the resolution."  
  
As he started to adjust the settings, Clark turned around and stared at the wall. He focused his vision for a moment and the house seemed to fall away. He could see Chloe's prone skeleton at the back of the house, sound asleep, and another skeleton standing at the front door. Then his eyes caught something and he looked closer. There were green patches of light covering the intruder's skeleton. It was the meteor rocks, he realized in a rush. Then he remembered where'd he seen that kind of marking before, and on whom.  
  
"I got it," Whitney started to say behind him, but Clark was already gone. He shouldered the computer room door open, splintering it off its frame, and dashed through the house. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or that he was still on edge from the previous attack, but Clark was suddenly fighting mad. All the aches and weariness in him fell away in a blind rage. If they wanted keep sending people after him, he though, he'd just have to convince them otherwise.  
  
Clark wasn't quite moving at top speed when he hit the front door, but it was going fast enough. He exploded through it, tackling the girl standing in the doorway. Splinters of wood rained down around them as his momentum carried them through the air. He heard the wind rush out of her as they fell onto the lawn and he rolled away, his fists ready. Too many things had happened to today to make him go easy on her. She tried to climb to her feet, but he knocked her back on the ground with one punch. As he pulled his fist back to hit her again, he heard Whitney rush up behind him.  
  
"Get back," he warned. The girl started to stir and Clark cocked his fist again, but Whitney flew past him.  
  
"Are you insane?" he nearly shouted at him. "What the hell are you doing? Why did you attack her?"  
  
"Get out of the way," Clark tried to step past him, but Whitney bent down and took her in his arms.  
  
"If you try to do anything like that again, I'll turn you in myself," he warned him. The sheer vehemence in his voice made Clark take a step back, suddenly confused. Turning back to the girl, Whitney stared down at her worriedly.  
  
It wasn't hard for Clark to recognize her, even without using his x-ray vision to identify her. He had even briefly seen her earlier in town. She had the same long, dark hair and slightly angular face that he remembered from his world. Clark focused his x-ray vision on her one more time, and sure enough, the signs of the meteor rock radiation were still there. There wasn't any doubt about it, it was Tina Greer.  
  
"Oh my God," he whispered to her, "Tina, are you okay?" She rolled her head around and stared at him dully. A nasty looking bruise was already forming on her jaw. Clark could only stare in shock as Whitney touched her cheek gently.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Chloe asked behind them. She was standing in what was left of the doorway, bleary-eyed and an unsteady. "Can't we go like an hour without getting attacked?"  
  
Clark turned towards her quickly and tried to shove her back inside. "Just get back inside," he told her. "I'll take care of this."  
  
"You've done enough already," Whitney snapped as he walked past them, carrying Tina in his arms. She moaned something unintelligibly and he shushed her. He stopped at the hole in the doorframe and stared back at Clark. "Fix this and then both of you get inside," he said through clenched teeth. "I think we're all going to have to sit down and have a talk." With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving Chloe and Clark standing there.  
  
They looked at each other uncertainly until finally Clark shrugged. "I thought .," he started to say lamely, but she rolled her eyes and stepped through the gaping hole in the doorway, ignoring him. He stared after her and then glanced around at the scattered, broken pieces of wood lying around him. He started to gather them up, muttering to himself, but then he stopped and slowly looked up at the houses directly across the street. Then he looked up and down the block at all the other houses surrounding them. So far no other lights were on, but there was no telling how many people had heard all the noise. Dropping the pieces of wood, he stepped quickly through the doorway and started down the hall. He met Chloe standing there halfway in.  
  
"Forgetting something?" she asked. He blinked and she nodded behind him towards the large hole where the door had once been. Clark winced and then looked around quickly for something to block it with. Finally he settled for pulling a nearby closet door off its hinges and jamming it into place where the front door had been. He thoughtfully jammed a few of the larger pieces splinters of wood into the gaps to keep anyone else from forcing it open.  
  
"Oh Whitney is just going to love this," Chloe remarked behind him. "I bring you here, we force our way in, and you go and destroy his house and attack his girlfriend. Was that actually planned, pissing him off that badly?" she tossed back as she walked down the hallway. "Or was that just another one of your powers I didn't know about?"  
  
"Hey it wasn't like I knew she wasn't here to." he stopped and blinked suddenly. "Wait a minute," he called after her. "Girlfriend?" 


	14. Bad News and Worse

Chapter 13  
  
"You mind telling us what you thought you were doing?" Whitney snarled at Clark as he came back into the computer room. He had Tina Greer propped up on his bed and was holding at damp washcloth to her forehead. Her eyes were still a little out of focus, but the glare she fixed him with was steady enough. Clark winced as he saw the dark bruise on the lower side of her face. He'd caused that, he thought, aghast.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry I." he started to apologize.  
  
"Sorry doesn't cut it!" he yelled. "What were you thinking?" Clark hesitated and glanced at Chloe. She was sitting idly by the computer terminals, smiling to herself. There wasn't going to be any help from her, he realized.  
  
"I wasn't. I saw someone on the monitor and I just panicked." He averted his eyes from Tina. "It was an accident."  
  
Whitney stared at him for a moment, his face going even more grim. "An accident is tripping over something. You ran through two doors to get to her. You nearly knocked this one off its hinges," he gestured towards the computer room door, "and turned the front one into toothpicks. I've seen tornados do less damage." Clark gritted his teeth and winced. Whitney glared at him and leaned in closer. "Which bring up a good question," he went on, "how?" Clark's head jerked up suddenly and if it was possible, Chloe's smiled got even bigger. She was clearly enjoying herself.  
  
"Do what?" Clark stuttered lamely, his mind racing for a plausible excuse.  
  
"Go through my door like it was cardboard," he grated. "That's what."  
  
"I don't know. Uh, shoddy workmanship?" he offered. Chloe snorted to herself. It didn't sound very convincing at all, even to him.  
  
"Maybe you didn't notice when you were smashing through it," Whitney drawled, "but there was a thin sheet of steel in that door. I'm not very well liked," Chloe snorted again, "and I put it in to keep people out," he went on. "It should've been more than enough to keep you in." Clark was trapped now and he knew it. "So try again."  
  
He waited as Clark stood there, trying to think of an explanation. He'd have to tell them, he realized. There was no other way. But Tina, he thought, glancing at her. He x-rayed her again for a moment, so quickly that the green glow from the radiation in her body lingered, ghost-like, over her body. The Tina he had known had been a murderer with a fixation on Lana Lang. She'd almost killed them both once, before dying herself, but here she was, alive and well and close to Whitney. Could he trust her, or even Whitney, he asked himself. How well did he know either of them?  
  
While Clark hesitated, Whitney finally swore and shook his head. He grabbed Clark's arm and pushed him towards the door. "That's it; I'm throwing both of you out of here. I don't care if Lionel Luthor himself is right outside, you're leaving."  
  
"Oh God, listen to the drama queen," Chloe said, exasperated. She rolled her eyes and leaned sideways in the chair, her legs hanging off the arm.  
  
"Something to add, Sullivan?" he turned on her. "You brought him here, you care to explain?"  
  
"Sure, if it means you two will stop being idiots about this." Clark stared at her, his heart in his throat. She shrugged and spun the chair around. "You want to know about Clark, fine, I can deal. He's special, that's all. And I don't mean in the tall, dim, irritating, and cute sort of way, though he's got that going, I mean in the 'different from your average guy', special."  
  
Whitney frowned at her. "Special. How?"  
  
"You know the rumors about the meteor rocks changing people?" she asked him. "They're true. He's proof." Now they were all speechless, Clark most of all. He wasn't so far gone though that he missed seeing Tina stiffen up suddenly, her eyes wide.  
  
Whitney looked Clark up and down, blinking in astonishment. Then he shook his head, his face darkening again. "Bullshit," Whitney told her. "They're just rumors."  
  
"How else you gonna explain how he went through your house like a locomotive?" she asked him sunnily.  
  
"You really expect me to believe that?" he asked her incredulously.  
  
"Hey, I didn't believe it either till Clark here punched a hole in about a foot of concrete. Something like that tends to convince a person, that and the whole of Luthor Corps trying to kill us."  
  
"I heard about that," Tina spoke up for the first time. She looked at Clark, her face puzzled. "It was you they were after?"  
  
"Wait a minute," Whitney broke in, waving his hands. "I'm all for rumors and conspiracies, especially when it's connected to Luthorcorp, but I've never seen anything to suggest that the rocks can change people. They're harmless; I had one as a paperweight and you don't see me sprouting another pair of arms."  
  
"You have gotten dumber though," Chloe breezed.  
  
"What I mean is," he snarled, glaring at her, "the meteor rocks are all over the place, and I've never heard of this happening to anyone else, so do you expect me to believe that he's the first person to be changed by them?" he asked, gesturing to Clark.  
  
"Not the first," Clark said, eyeing Tina. She caught the look and stared back at him, clearly disturbed. Whitney missed the exchange though, and turned towards him.  
  
"Well then where are the rest, huh?"  
  
"I'm not really the one you should ask about that," Clark told him.  
  
Tina flinched visibly and then she seemed to steel herself. She started to raise herself up gingerly. Whitney noticed and quickly rushed back to kneel down beside her. He steadied her shoulder and took her hand. "Whoa, are you sure you should be doing that?" he asked her.  
  
"No, but that's not really an issue," she told him, never taking her eyes off Clark. "We need to talk, alone."  
  
Whitney blinked and then glanced back at Clark and Chloe. "I think that should probably wait until later."  
  
"No, sorry, not you," she disagreed. Whitney's eyes grew wide as he followed her stare. Clark nodded at her and waited, his arms folded over his chest.  
  
"Wait a minute," Whitney protested, "I'm not leaving you alone with him. He jumped you not five minutes ago!"  
  
"We're not going to fight are we?" Tina asked over his shoulder at Clark.  
  
He shrugged. "I've had a very long day, but I'm willing to go on your basic faith here."  
  
"Tina," Whitney pleaded again.  
  
She looked pained at the tone in his voice, but she remained resolute. "I'm sorry, but this is something I have to do," she told him. "Why don't you go find something to fix the door with? We'll be fine." He didn't move, his eyes pleading with her. "Please." Finally he bowed his head and nodded. He got up slowly and turned towards Clark, his face stony.  
  
"If anything happens.," he warned him, trailing off.  
  
"Lord," Chloe laughed again. "You'll do what; break your fist on his jaw?" Whitney shot her a look, then turned around and stomped out of the room. She smirked at him from her chair.  
  
"Chloe," Clark spoke up, "you too."  
  
"Oh, come' on," she protested. "You owe me!"  
  
"Chloe!" he barked at her, his temper starting to fray.  
  
She sniffed and said, "Whatever." She left as well, slamming the door behind her. Finally they were alone. Clark studied her carefully. She looked almost exactly like he remembered her, but that didn't mean much, he realized, when you could change the appearance of your body absolutely. That was the effect the meteor rocks had had on Tina Greer. She'd been born with a bone disease that had left her frail and almost bed-ridden, but after the meteor shower, she had mysteriously recovered. It wasn't until much later that they had learned that the meteor rocks had been responsible for it all. Along with healing her, they had also given her the ability to control the shape of her body, allowing her to mimic anyone's appearance. Additionally, or simply as a side-effect of her new ability, she had also been given increased strength and speed, enough to prove a serious threat to Clark. They had fought twice in his Smallville, the last time ending in her accidental death. But that had been in his world, Clark realized. The question now was, how different was she here?  
  
Tina remained silent, staring at him intensely. Not willing to be the first to speak, Clark waited, eying her back. Finally, she broke the silence. "How do you know?" she asked him, her voice as tight as a wire.  
  
"About you?" he asked, surprised. She nodded curtly and he shrugged. "I could see it in you. It's one of my powers." Tina seemed to deflate, her chest heaving. She stared off into space, her mouth half open. Clark cocked his head, puzzled by her response.  
  
"He doesn't know, does he?" he asked suddenly, glancing towards the door.  
  
Her head snapped up immediately. "No!" she almost cried. Then she went on, more softly, "No, of course not. I don't use it often, and never around anyone else."  
  
"You don't?" he asked, surprised again.  
  
"Why would I want to?" She looked at him incredulously. "To let him know I'm a freak? That I put his life in danger just by being near him? Things are hard enough as it is." She looked away sadly, and then glanced back. "You look surprised," she pointed out.  
  
"I just thought you would've told him," he replied.  
  
"How many people have you told?" she asked in response.  
  
Clark grunted offhand and nodded. "Point taken. Though," he admitted, "a lot more people than I thought seemed to have figured it out already."  
  
"Luthorcorp," she breathed out. "I don't think we can help you with that. If they want you, they'll find you. They found all the others."  
  
"There were others?" he asked.  
  
She nodded. "A lot more. Maybe thirty, maybe fifty, maybe even a hundred. No one knows for certain. A few years after the meteor shower, Luthorcorp started going through the town, interviewing everyone, tracking down stories, following up on rumors. Their men were everywhere with trucks and equipment. When they found someone like us, somebody different, they took them away to their labs." As she spoke, Clark heard her voice start to crack. There was such pain and fear in it, fear he recognized so well. He knew what it was like to live day to day hiding a secret. The suspicion; the tension building and building till it felt like you might just tear apart. He knew what that was like.  
  
"I don't know if anyone else knew what was happening," she went on. "Maybe it was just the freaks like us that knew, because we were more observant or just more nervous. Or maybe everyone else was just happy to see us taken away. After a while, they got nearly everyone. I was only safe because my mother kept me hidden. I had always been sick, so it wasn't difficult to keep me at home and away from people. Then, about a few years ago, they just stopped looking. It was like they gave up or something. Or, maybe they thought there was no one left, because after that, I never heard of anyone else like us."  
  
"No one else," Clark wondered.  
  
"If you don't mind," she asked him, "but how did it happen to you?"  
  
He hesitated, and then said, "I've always been like this, since the day of the meteor shower."  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you stay hidden?"  
  
"It's complicated," he stammered. "And it doesn't matter now. Somehow, they found me out."  
  
Tina nodded seriously and was silent for a moment. Clark glanced at her. She had such cold, tired, sad eyes, he noticed. There were lines in her face he hadn't noticed before either. Even if she could change her appearance with a thought, he realized, she couldn't stop some things from leaving their mark on her.  
  
"You know, the safest thing for me to do would be to kill you," she said evenly. Clark blinked and faced her. They stared each other down, sizing the other up. "I could you know, you might have surprised me before, but I'm a lot stronger than I look."  
  
"So am I," he replied.  
  
She touched her bruised jaw and swallowed gingerly. "That's for sure," she muttered under her breath. Then she frowned and raised her chin defiantly. "But it doesn't matter how strong you are," she told him, "they'll find you. And you'll tell them about me, and Whitney."  
  
"I beat them once," he remarked.  
  
"They won't come after you just once," she said sadly, "they'll come after you as many times as it takes."  
  
"Well if it comes to that, I wouldn't tell them," he said calmly. She smiled a little and looked away. "That doesn't mean much, does it?" he realized.  
  
She shook her head. "No. But it was nice to hear." She sighed and sat back down on the bed. "So what do we do now?" she asked.  
  
"That's what we were asking before you showed up," he admitted.  
  
"Alright," she said, "then here's the deal. We'll help you get out of Smallville, and in return, you don't breathe a word about us to anyone else. And you don't come back. Ever. Just keep running, as far away from Luthorcorp as you can get. How's that?"  
  
"It's not that easy," he told her. "I need to find out what happened here, what went wrong. This isn't what I. it's not..," he hesitated. "This is my home. Even if I don't remember it this way, I can't just run away."  
  
"Information's tricky," she admitted. "Whitney's good, but. It might actually be more dangerous to go digging around than to smuggle you across the county line."  
  
"I still have to try." He looked at her helplessly. "I don't know if you can understand."  
  
"You think I stayed here because I couldn't leave?" she asked him. "It'd be easy for me to cross the county line. I could make myself look like Lionel Luthor in a heartbeat and just march through the soldiers. It's what I should've done years ago if I had a bit of sense."  
  
"Why are you still here?" he asked.  
  
She sighed and shook her head. "That's a long story," she replied. "Too long to get into right now." She closed her eyes wearily and rubbed her forehead. "Well, I guess we'd better call them back in now," she decided finally, getting up off the bed. She started towards the door and then stopped and glanced back at him. "You won't." she left it hanging.  
  
He shook his head. "It's your secret. And I don't really blame you for not telling him. I've. I've got someone like that too." She smiled a little and then set her shoulders.  
  
"He's probably standing with his ear to the door," she muttered to him. "Even if the room is soundproof."  
  
"He's not," Clark smiled. "But he has passed by about five times already." He shrugged self-consciously at her questioning look. "I can sort of see through walls too."  
  
Tina laughed. "He's sweet, but a wee bit over protective. Even if I could probably carry him with one hand," she remarked. "Oh well," she shrugged and opened the door. Clark smiled and shook his head. Then he started to mull over what she'd told him. Thinking, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out. He pulled out the meteor stone the old farmer had given him when he'd first arrived here and looked at it. It gleamed dully in his hand. He still felt strange holding it, but it was nerves, nothing more. The rock had no effect on him. He stared into it, wondering.  
  
"Well the place is still in one piece," Chloe's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. She craned her head around as she stood in the doorway. "I'm surprised. I was expecting just to find a big crater. I mean, the people two streets over are going to be picking splinters out of their grass come tomorrow." He looked at her and shrugged, still preoccupied.  
  
She sat down in the rolling chair in front of the computer. "So, you want to tell me what was so important between you two?" she asked.  
  
"Sorry," he said, "but it's kind of private." She sniffed and spun the chair away from him, grunting irritably. "Chloe," he said, a bit annoyed, "come' on!" She ignored him completely, not turning around. "Fine," he shook his head. He breathed out angrily, but then he stopped himself and tried to go on more pleasantly. "Thank you though, for before. That was quick thinking."  
  
"Someone had to do it," she replied, "and you certainly weren't up for it."  
  
"Thanks," he said dryly.  
  
"Clark?" He turned around to see Whitney and Tina standing there in the doorway. "She tells me you two have come to a bit of an understanding, that right?" he asked. Clark glanced at Tina and she nodded in agreement.  
  
"We have."  
  
"Apology's been given and accepted," she said with a small smile.  
  
"Not by me," Whitney said flatly. Then his face softened as he looked at Tina. "But I've learned to trust Tina. She's usually right about these things." Chloe snorted derisively, but no one seemed to notice.  
  
"I'm sorry about keeping this from you before," Clark said to him. Whitney shrugged and waved it off.  
  
"I probably would've done the same thing. Forget about it."  
  
"No, I am," he insisted. "But maybe I can make it up to you." He put the hunk of meteor rock on the table and stepped back. "What is that?"  
  
"Did you forget already?" Chloe asked, amused.  
  
"Just humor me," he told her.  
  
"It's a meteor rock," Whitney said quietly, staring at it. Tina nodded slightly, studying Clark.  
  
"That's what someone told me when I got this afternoon," he corrected them. "But I don't think it is."  
  
Whitney picked up the stone, studying it closely. "How can you tell?"  
  
"A few ways," Clark said delicately. Tina shot him a warning look and he nodded slightly, catching it. "It looks like one, it's a crystal, it's green, and I'm betting if you studied it under a microscope it would probably closely resemble one too. But there's just critical thing missing, it's not radioactive."  
  
Whitney's hand shook suddenly and he almost dropped the stone. Fumbling it, he blinked and looked at Clark. "The stones are radioactive?"  
  
"The real one's are." Clark turned to Chloe. "Do you remember what they were shooting at us at the Talon?" he asked her.  
  
Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head. "I mostly just remember being tossed through a window like a rag doll, but I think they were lasers."  
  
"Green lasers," he corrected her. "You ever wonder why they did that? Bullets just bounce off of me; the only thing that really hurts me is the radiation from the meteor rocks. I can't stand to even be near one." He walked over to Whitney and took the stone from his hand. He held it tightly and then tossed it up, catching it. "But as you can see, no reaction. But there was one this afternoon, when I got shot. It didn't last long, but it's not the sort of thing you forget."  
  
"So you're saying they had guns designed to hurt you?" Tina asked him. Clark nodded and then the full weight of the question fell on him.  
  
"Not just anyone," he muttered. "Just me."  
  
"Oh, I don't know, they did a number on the people in the crowd," Chloe commented.  
  
"Sure, but if they just wanted to do that, why use lasers?" Tina argued. "A normal gun would've done the job." She stared at Clark. "They must know all about you." Clark nodded, shaken for a moment.  
  
"So the radiation was in the stones, but it's now in the guns. What did they do, drain the radiation out of it?" Whitney wondered, grabbing the stone again. He held it up to the light, staring at it.  
  
"Yeah, like that's going to really show you anything, Mr. Science," Chloe snorted. He glared at her and put the stone back down on the table.  
  
"You said Luthorcorp gathered up all the stones, right?" Clark stepped in quickly. "But they didn't do a very good job of it because there were still so many around."  
  
"Of course," Tina breathed out. "They weren't collecting them, they were replacing them!" Her eyes widened in awe. "That's why they stopped looking. Take the stones away." she trailed off, glancing at them worriedly. Clark glanced around but Whitney and Chloe hadn't seemed to notice.  
  
"But why?" Chloe asked. "Why collect them?"  
  
"Who knows," Tina shrugged, looking at Whitney. "I guess we could always ask though." He snorted and nodded. Then he grew serious and nodded, looking at Clark.  
  
"Since we're coming clean now, I think I can help you with something." Clark looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. "Or maybe you can help me with something," he corrected himself. He walked over to the computer and then glanced down at Chloe shortly. She sat there in his chair, not budging. "You mind?" he asked. She smiled and pushed the chair away, rolling to the side of the room. He stared after her and then sighed, taking another chair and setting it in place in front of the computers.  
  
"Whitney, what is it?" Tina asked, looking confused.  
  
"I never told you his last name, did I?" he asked. "Tina, meet Clark Kent," he emphasized the last name. She stared uncomprehendingly, and then her eyes lit up and her mouth hung open.  
  
"Kent, as in."  
  
"Kent farm, outside of town," Whitney agreed. He stared to type quickly.  
  
"Wait, what is this?" Clark spoke up. "I thought you didn't know anything about that?"  
  
"I lied," Whitney shrugged. "Well, not really. I don't know anything concrete about the place. I've just got a whole bunch of suspicions and unanswered questions." He pulled up a file and turned in his chair, motioning for Clark to step closer. He did, slowly though, his stomach sending an icy chill through the rest of his body. Something was wrong, he could feel it.  
  
"Luthorcorp owns about sixty percent of the property outside of town. It doesn't do a hell of a lot with it, just puts up 'no trespassing' signs and fences. They buy up the rights and then just bulldoze all the houses down. They chased a lot of good families off their land and then they don't even do anything with it. All except for one area." He brought up a map of Smallville on the screen and circled a bit of land with his mouse. It was an area Clark knew well.  
  
"It's kinda curious, don't you think? They tear down all the houses except for one: the Kent farm. This one they don't touch, they leave everything in fact, right down to the rotting fences. It was one of the first ones they bought as a matter of fact; right after Red Tuesday."  
  
"How'd you find out about this?" Chloe asked curiously. She craned her head up to see the screen.  
  
"Someone tipped me off to it. It's not easy to notice, they've done everything to hide it by just pretending there's nothing special about the place." Chloe looked confused and he went on. "You've got something you want to hide, right? What do you do; ring it with barbed wire, armed guards, and hi-tech surveillance, or do you leave it out in the open, hidden along with all the other farms you own?"  
  
"It still doesn't mean anything," she pointed out. "They could've just forgotten about it."  
  
"Not when the property is solely owned by one Lionel Luthor. Not Luthorcorp, not a dummy corporation, but Lionel himself."  
  
"Maybe it's a summer home," she shrugged.  
  
"What about the family?" Clark heard himself ask. He felt like he was standing outside his own body, listening to all this. They all looked up at him. "What happened to the Kents?!" he almost screamed.  
  
"The farm was put up for sale after Red Tuesday," Whitney told him quietly. "A lot of places were. vacated that day." Clark stared at him, feeling his eyes tightened and dry up. "I did some digging, checked out police reports, old newspaper clippings, that sort of thing. Jonathon and Martha Kent were driving home from town during the meteor shower. There had been a big festival that morning; practically the whole town had been there. They were about a mile from their home when a large meteorite came down in front of them. The police reports that day were all rushed and incomplete, but they did manage to identify the bodies."  
  
Clark heard him say it clearly, but for some reason his brain refused to process it. He shook his head slowly, feeling something start to burn deep in his chest. "What. That's not what happened!" he choked out.  
  
"It is," Whitney said reluctantly. He pulled up another file on the screen and moved aside so he could see better. Clark stumbled over to the monitor and gripped the sides of the desk, reading. The column was small, hardly more than an inch, one of many sandwiched into a horribly, large obituary section. They'd saved on space by resizing a photograph of both his parents into the space above the column. Due to the resizing it was almost impossible to make out any details, but Clark knew what it looked like. That very picture rested on their mantle, a snapshot of his parents just before their marriage. He'd seen it everyday of his life as he'd passed by the living room, their smiling, joyous faces, the glow on his mother's cheeks, and the bashful, youthful, twinkle in his father's eyes. And now it was over their obituary. Chunks of wood in the desk snapped off, unnoticed, as he gripped it tighter.  
  
"Clark." Chloe said gently, trying to bring him back.  
  
"Where are they?" he asked. "Where are they now?" he repeated, throwing the broken pieces of the desk aside.  
  
"They were buried there," Whitney said. He turned back to the computer and highlighted a section of the text. "It says they were interred in a family plot at the farm-" he was cut off by a gust of wind that knocked him out of his chair. Tina fell back with a cry and Chloe's chair was thrown back against the wall fiercely. Chloe cried out as she hit her head against the wall as the chair struck it.  
  
"Ow!" she yelled, touching the back of her head gingerly. Then she touched her mouth and winced. "I bit my tongue," she mumbled.  
  
"What happened?" Tina moaned from the floor. She groaned and stood up, rubbing her elbow.  
  
Whitney climbed to his knees, trying to clear his head. "I don't know," he mumbled.  
  
"Where's Clark?" Chloe suddenly asked, staring around the room. They all looked up, glancing around. He was gone. Behind them, the door to the room swung wildly on one hinge and then fell off with a crash.  
  
"He did it again!" Whitney cried out. "Can't he just open it first?"  
  
"Whitney!" Tina yelled. "Forget about that. We need to find him. They're still looking for him."  
  
"Well, I guess we know where he's going," Chloe spoke up. She looked back at the obituary on the computer screen. "Home." 


	15. Grave

Chapter 14  
  
The house loomed in front of him, as hollow and foreboding as a grave. The roof was sagging and rotted out. Only a few shingles spotted haphazardly on it even suggested that it had once been properly looked after. The windows were all blown out, letting tattered, faded curtains tumble in and out with the wind. One of his mother's shutters hung wildly by a single hinge. The paint had run on it, leaving an ugly stain, like an old scar, down the side of the wall. He could hear the rusty hinge screech as the wind moved the shutter slightly. Behind him, the morning sun was just starting to peak over the edge of the forest, behind the weed-choked fields. He shivered in spite of the warmth it brought with it.  
  
He'd run all through the night to get here. Sick with worry and confusion, half-blinded by tears, and overwhelmed by everything around him, he'd stumbled through the darkness, barely conscious of where he was sometimes. It was a small miracle that he had made it without alerting half of Luthorcorp. He'd gotten lost now and then, turned around on a road that went somewhere different than where he remembered, but eventually he'd found his way here. He was home.  
  
Clark turned around and stumbled down the driveway. Seeing something in the tall weeds, he diverted from his path. Bending down, he picked up a wooden post, half rotted through. He noticed something else by it, and picked up a rusted out mailbox. Turning it over, he saw that only the first letter of the name, "Kent", remained on its side. He tossed it aside sadly and looked back at his parent's house.  
  
There was hardly anything left of it now. He'd grown up in this house. He could see the old tree where his father had started to build him a tree house. That was until, of course, that he had discovered how much further up the fort was when you were looking at it from the ground. There wasn't much of a tree there now of course, and no sign that it had ever been used as a fort. It was leaning wildly away from the house, its roots half exposed by erosion. Not even the planks his father had nailed into the truck as a ladder remained. There was the porch that had collapsed on them three years ago. They'd spent a summer rebuilding it, measuring out beams, thinking up new designs, until finally they'd just repaired the first one, the same as before. But here it was, ruined again, or for the first time here, he thought. He gently traced the broken edges with his fingers. No one had been around to ever fix it this time.  
  
Steeling himself, he stepped over the remains of the porch and front stoop and pulled himself up into the doorway. He took a moment to test the floor, hearing it snap and groan under his feet. It seemed sturdy enough though, and so he ventured a little further in.  
  
He was a little surprised and saddened to see that a lot was like he remembered it. It might have been easier, he realized, if everything was different, but that wasn't the case. Everything was painfully familiar. There was the same couch his parents had had forever it seemed, musty smelling and water-damaged, but still recognizable. There were no pictures on the mantle, but it didn't take much to imagine them there. Or to see a log burning in the fireplace, and his father sitting in his chair, happily listening to it pop and crackle. He stepped into the kitchen and stared around. One of the cabinets that hung on the wall had broken open and spilled out his mother's dishes everywhere. He picked up one of the pieces and brushed it off with his hand, noting the familiar design. How many times had he eaten off these plates? He set it back on the counter and shifted his way through the rubble aimlessly. There was nothing else however, and he stood up slowly, swaying slightly.  
  
How long had it been since he slept, he wondered. Yesterday, the night before that? He felt drained, mentally and physically exhausted. He needed to rest. Maybe he could go to sleep and this would all be gone when he woke up. Like a bad dream.  
  
Glancing through the kitchen window, he stared out at the northwest corner of the lawn, adjacent to the overgrown fields. It was the one place that he'd never been near much growing up. The farm had been in the Kent family for generations, and many of them had chosen to be buried on the same land where they'd lived and worked. That spot had been the Kent family cemetery, and for all his powers and strength, he had not been able to go near it. Not then, and not now. Certainly not now.  
  
There were two new grave stones in that small plot of land. He could see them clearly through the window. They stood side by side in the back of the plot. Behind them, he could see the fields ripple slightly in the wind. "This isn't any bad dream," he muttered to himself. Then he turned his back on them and went back to inspecting the house.  
  
There wasn't much left to see though. The floorboards in the front room creaked dangerously as soon as he put one foot down on them. He prodded another with his toe and it broke into pieces. He stared into the room fruitlessly and then went back. The stairway had collapsed years ago by the look of it and there was no going upstairs. Not that there would have been anything for him to find, he thought to himself. Not his room, that was for certain. His parent's hadn't lived to see him. They'd been in the wrong time and the wrong place in the meteor crash, like so many others. He stopped in the front hall and stared at a picture of his parents on the wall. Touching it gently, he traced his mother's smile. Or he'd been in the wrong time and place, he thought, or any number of other things. He snarled and smashed his fist out against the wall, smashing through the weak boards beside the picture frame. He held it there for a moment and then pulled it back, his fist covered with white dust.  
  
Anything could have gone wrong that day. Maybe his parent's had taken a detour and gone on another road. Maybe his ship had been off course. Maybe the meteor rocks had fallen in a different pattern. Or maybe it was something else, some little thing that he'd never think about. It could be anything, anything. His parents could be dead because they were going a little faster than they should've been. Or their car had been running slow. Or the winds had shifted a bit that day. His parents could be dead because there had been a thunderstorm that day instead of clear skies. Clark felt something tighten up in his chest and then he screamed, letting it tear out of him. He smashed his fists into the wall, hitting it with reckless abandon, crying, screaming, all the while. Loose timber and plaster exploded out with every hit, leaving gaping holes behind. The picture danced wildly as he punched around it, until it finally fell with a crash, the glass frame shattering. Then the wall, and part of the ceiling above Clark, gave out, collapsing around and on top of him. Timber, brick, and plaster bounced off his body as he screamed, smashing through the last of the wall. Then he collapsed to his knees, his anger spent.  
  
Clark knelt there in the rubble, his chest heaving. He was covered in dust and fine, white plaster, but he hardly noticed. He stared at his fists and then eased them open, forcing his fingers too unclench. This wasn't helping anyone, he thought. Breathing deeply, he stood up, the larger pieces of rubble falling off of him. He stepped through the pile of debris and forced the front door open, the lock breaking as it swung outward. For a moment, he was frozen there as he remembered doing the same thing years ago, when he was still learning to control his strength. He could still hear his father's warnings echo back to him. He glanced down at it for a moment and then looked back at the wreckage inside. You can't put things back when they're broken; his father had told him then. He was right.  
  
Turning his back on the house, he stepped over the rotten front porch and into the yard. A little unsteady on his feet, he stood there aimlessly in the morning sun. There was nothing left for him here. He should get back to Chloe and the others, he told himself. But there was one last thing he needed to do just yet.  
  
His feet led him slowly to the edge of the farm, away from the house and towards the fields. He kept going past the rusted out wreck of their tractor until he came to the tiny plot of land by the fence. Clark stood there silently, in front of the tiny gate. The wind blew past him for a moment, making the gate creak and shudder on its hinges. Unlatching it, he stepped inside, passing the older graves to the two newest ones in the back. The lettering was a bit weathered, but he knew who was buried there.  
  
Kneeling, he touched his parent's graves; first one then the other. He wanted to say something, anything to them, but the words wouldn't come. He sniffed suddenly, choking back tears. This couldn't be real, he told himself, lamely. This world, all of it was just some nightmare; that was all. It wasn't real. He touched the stones again, wishing they'd just dissolve underneath his fingers and he could wake up, but they remained firm and solid. "NO!" he screamed and clutching it desperately. The stone he was holding broke in two from his grip, hitting the ground. Clark backed up in shock, staring at the broken headstone. "No," he whispered again. He could read part of his father's name on it. He shut his eyes tightly and turned away, then looked back fiercely. He had to know. Clark focused his x-ray vision into the ground and waited, watching the earth melt away as he saw deeper.  
  
A moment ticked by as he stood there, staring down. Then he slowly closed his eyes and turned away. He walked back slowly to the gate and leaned down on it, his head hung low. Then he couldn't control himself any longer and he threw up over the side.  
  
When he was done he stood there, leaning against the fence, his arms quivering. He blinked away the sweat and tears in his eyes, trying to clear his vision without much success. His parents were dead, he thought to himself. They were gone and he was all alone here. For a moment, he wondered if he was stuck here for good. He hadn't been able to even say goodbye. The last time he'd seen them, they'd been arguing. Was that it?  
  
"No," he told himself firmly. His voice shook, but he repeated himself, spitting to clear his mouth. "No. You will find a way home and you won't give up." He pushed himself off of the gate and stumbled towards the house again. His vision blurred over, but he kept going. "You won't give up. You'll find a way. There's always a way." His voice died out and he stood there, swaying on his feet. Dimly, he remembered a platitude his father used to say.  
  
"Just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other," he wheezed. He brought one foot forwards, but his whole body seemed to come with it. He collapsed in a heap and lay there in the morning sunlight, completely unconscious. 


	16. And More Questions

Chapter 15  
  
Clark was floating somewhere warm and comforting. He opened his eyes slowly, but all he could see was white light stretching out in front of him. He floated alone, supported by nothing at all. Dimly, he realized that there was something wrong with this, but he couldn't bring himself to resist it. He felt like he was being wrapped up in a soft blanket and rocked to sleep. His whole body seemed to melt and fall deeper into it. Somewhere nearby, he could hear a woman's voice singing softly. It was gentle and very kind, but also sad. He almost felt like he should remember it.  
  
There was no way of telling how long he hung there in the bright light, listening to her sing. All the he knew was the suddenly the song cut off, her voice echoing around him in the silence. Clark blinked, coming more awake, not wanting the song to stop. Then he froze, as the light started to tremble around him. It flickered and shook briefly, then was still. He hung there, waiting. Gently, a piece of the light detached and moved towards him. He didn't flinch away, watching it come closer. It stopped an inch from his face, and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then it reached out to stroke his cheek, forming into a hand as it touched his skin. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; delicately formed and glowing with the same brilliant light. He blinked in wonderment as it caressed his face.  
  
Slowly, he reached up and touched the hand, feeling the smooth warmth of the skin. As he did, light within it grew brighter and brighter. All around him, the light intensified as well. Shielding his eyes, he looked up and saw a face staring back at him through the brightness. Almost blinded by the light, he tried to reach out for it with no avail. When he tried to call out, he found that his voice didn't make any sound. The light was too intense now for even his eyes to stand. He threw up his arms over his face and cried out silently.  
  
"Wake up now," a voice called out to him. It was the same voice he'd heard singing before. He peered out through a gap in his arms, but all he could see was the light. "Wake up and find me," it said again. "I know you will. You always do." Clark reached out blindly, trying to catch hold of the speaker but could not. Then his whole body went stiff as he felt it touch him right on the forehead. He struggled vainly, but his muscles were frozen in place.  
  
"You're the only one who can," it whispered in his ears. "Only you. It's not enough that the others have the power, only you can make things right. It's what you were born to do." He listened, floating there immobile. "Now wake up," it commanded him one last time. Something passed through its touch and into him, rocking him like a bolt of lightening. He flew backwards, out of the light and seemed to fall far away.  
  
***** Clark opened his eyes and all he could see was someone's face; upside down and staring at him intently. Confused and startled, he cried out and thrashed on the ground. The face vanished and he heard a girl cry out close by and then someone was grabbing him, holding him down. It was a girl with tight looking face and long brown hair. He struggled against her as she hissed at him, "Clark! Clark, it's us, calm down!"  
  
It took a moment for him to recognize her. "Tina?" he asked slowly, no longer fighting her. She nodded, relieved, and let go of him. Confused, he looked around quickly. "I'm still on the farm." He looked up at the sky and guessed that he had only been asleep for a few hours.  
  
"Where did you expect to be?" Tina looked tired, but relieved to see him. She was wearing a pair of faded old jeans and what looked like a military jacket over a t-shirt. Falling back onto the ground, she smiled. "Thank God you stopped struggling. I don't think I could have held you much longer."  
  
"What the hell was that for anyways?" Chloe asked him suddenly. Looking around, Clark spotted her lying a few feet away, rubbing her elbows gingerly. "You almost scared me to death, you big, dumb, bastard! Not to mention knocking me over."  
  
Not even that was enough to stop him from smiling. "Just happy to see you," he told her. She rolled her eyes disgustedly, but he thought he saw her grin back quickly.  
  
"Seriously, are you alright?" Tina asked him, concerned.  
  
Clark frowned and looked down. "Just some bad dreams," he told her. She glanced around the farm and nodded sympathetically. He wasn't sure he even knew what he had dreamed yet. Telling them about it would only worry them needlessly.  
  
Standing up, Chloe brushed herself off and extended her arm to him. He took it and stood up, towering over her as he always did. "Are you going to run off like that again?" she asked him. She hadn't let go of his hand yet. Tina looked away, smiling to herself.  
  
He looked at her and then shook his head. "I don't think so."  
  
"Good." She let go of his hand and turned around, glancing around the farm. There was an uncomfortable bit of silence as she looked around. "Nice place," she commented finally. "If it wasn't for everything else, I mean."  
  
"It was a lot better once," he told her, looking around as well. He glanced back at the gravesite unconsciously. The broken edge of the tombstone was clearly noticeable.  
  
"Is that where." she started and he nodded quickly. She looked around uncomfortably and tilted her head. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Clark nodded again and didn't say anything. "We guessed that was why you ran off. Sorry that there's not much for you to come home to though."  
  
"No, there is," he broke in. Tina and Chloe both looked up at him. "This just isn't it." Tina looked confused, but Chloe seemed to understand. Sighing, Clark shook his head and looked around. "So how did you get out here?" he asked.  
  
"Whitney drove us," Tina said. "We had to take a few back roads to avoid some roadblocks."  
  
"And backroads in Smallville," Chloe added, "just as bad as they sound. I thought the truck was going to shake to pieces a few times."  
  
"We've used them a few times," she shrugged in response. "You're lucky it wasn't raining."  
  
"Lucky for you, I wasn't going to push that pile of junk."  
  
"Where's Whitney," Clark broke in, looking around.  
  
Chloe shrugged. "Parking the truck."  
  
"Hiding the truck," Tina snapped back at her.  
  
"Then why is it right there," she pointed to the side. They all turned and looked as a Ford truck came tearing around the corner. Whitney was behind the wheel and waving at them frantically. The car came to a skidding halt and Whitney was running towards them almost before it had even come to a stop.  
  
"Get inside, get inside!" he yelled at them.  
  
They stared at him in shock. "What is it?" Tina yelled.  
  
"Luthorcorp," he gasped, stumbling to a stop. He bent down, holding his knees and breathing heavily. Tina held his shoulders, behind down next to him. "There's a whole line of cars coming down the road," he said between pants. "They already saw the car when I was parking it. They know we're here." 


	17. Martyr

Chapter 16  
  
"Didn't we already do this?" Chloe exclaimed. "I thought you said you could get us here without being seen?"  
  
"I thought we did," Tina said, looking alarmed. "We took the back roads, bypassed the checkpoints, cut across a few fields-" She stopped and hesitated. "Maybe we missed something."  
  
"Checkpoints?" Clark spoke up, confused. They all looked up at slowly, even Whitney who was still bent over, trying to catch his breath. "I mean, yeah, checkpoints," he went on quickly. "Um. how long have they had those?"  
  
"Maybe we weren't the ones to set them off," Tina remarked quietly.  
  
"We don't time to pass the blame around," Whitney said, straightening up.  
  
"Who's passing?" Chloe asked. She pointed at Clark. "There's no passing the blame, it's all right there."  
  
"Thanks for coming, Chloe," he remarked.  
  
She smiled in response. "Anytime."  
  
"If we're all done here, I propose we run," Tina said. She started around the side of the car and opened the door. Clark hurried and opened the passenger side.  
  
"There's an old road that my dad used to take into town," he said. "We can cut across the back field to get to it. It's pretty rough, but it'll keep us off the main roads."  
  
"And that'll keep them from catching us for about ten more minutes," Whitney breathed. They all looked at him and he snarled, "My truck's unreliable at best. If I can get it past fifty it's a good day. No way are we going to outrun anyone."  
  
"Then we hide," Tina said quickly. "We can hide out in the woods or the barn. Then we can make a break for it when it's safe."  
  
Clark looked across the fields to the forest. If they could reach it, they could hide out like before, but he didn't like their chances of doing it. The forest was good distance off, and the weed choked fields they'd have to cross wouldn't provide much cover. "They'll see us when we cross the field," he told them, "but there's probably no avoiding it. We'll have a better chance of loosing them in there than anywhere else."  
  
"What if they start shooting as we're crossing the field?" Chloe asked.  
  
"We'll have to chance it."  
  
"Hey, some of us aren't bullet proof here," she exclaimed.  
  
"Chloe, I don't want you to get shot either, but there's no other choice!"  
  
"Yes, there is," Whitney spoke up. "They already saw me moving the truck. They know someone's here already. If we run, they'll shoot; if we hide, they'll find us. But not if they've already got someone."  
  
Tina stared at him in horror. "No, no! You can't be thinking..."  
  
"It's the only way. The rest of you can hide out in the barn while I distract them." He saw the look on Tina's face and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Please, just do it now."  
  
"We're not leaving you to them," Tina exploded. "We'll chance the forest," she said turning around.  
  
"They're picking up speed," Clark warned them all suddenly. He stared out through the barn at the dirt road leading up to the farm. "If we're going to run, we'll have to do it now."  
  
"My way is safer," Whitney yelled at Tina. "If you try and cross the field, who knows what's going to happen. Clark might make it, but what about you and Chloe? We can't chance it."  
  
"It's not safer for you!" Tina pleaded. "I'm not letting you do this!"  
  
"She's right, maybe there's a better way," Clark said. "I'm the only one they're really after. If I let them find me, I can lead them away from here."  
  
"And what if they catch you?" Chloe asked, going pale.  
  
"They won't," he said firmly, trying to reassure her.  
  
"But there's a chance they will," Whitney told him. "We can't risk losing you."  
  
"But we can lose you?" Clark turned to stare at him incredulously. "I'm not worth that!"  
  
"Yes, you are," Whitney told him seriously. "If we lose you, we'll lose our best chance of hurting Luthorcorp, I can feel it. Maybe you're even the key to bringing them down entirely. Why else would they want you so badly?" Clark was speechless at that.  
  
Tina was not though. "But why does it have to be you then?" she demanded. "Chloe or I could do it. We need you too."  
  
"Hold on there. No way am I doing it," Chloe shook her head. She raised her hands defensively as everyone glared at her. "Hey, I'm all for an escape plan now, but not one that involves me being the martyr."  
  
"Don't worry, we weren't asking," Whitney told her dryly. Then he looked at Tina and his voice softened. "It can't be you anyways, Chloe," he said, not looking at her. "They've already linked you and Clark together. If they find you, they'll know he's here."  
  
"What about me?" Tina asked. "Why can't it be me?"  
  
"Because it's not going to be you," he told her quietly. "I don't want it to be." She winced, her mouth open to say something else, but he stepped towards her and silenced her with a quick, strong kiss. Clark looked away quickly, checking the progress of the caravan. What he saw didn't improve matters any.  
  
"They're almost here," he said quickly. "Whatever we decide, it has to be now."  
  
"We're decided," Whitney told him, pulling back from Tina. He stepped towards them, waving at the barn. "Can you hide out in there?"  
  
"Yeah, there are few places I know about," Clark nodded. "We should be fine." He looked past Whitney, staring at Tina. She was as white as a sheet and he could see tears in her eyes, but her mouth was pressed together in a firm line. She looked up at him, and there was something in her eyes that made him stop, a kind of wild desperation. Then her arm came up and she struck Whitney across the back of his neck sharply. He cried out and started to collapse as Clark jumped forwards and caught him.  
  
He gaped at Whitney's unconscious face and then looked up at Tina. She stared back at him with the same wild look, her throat moving up and down like she choking back sobs.  
  
"What the hell was that for?" Chloe yelled, bending over Whitney.  
  
"I told him I wouldn't let him do it," Tina said quietly, almost sounding detached. Clark thought for a moment and then nodded at her. He hefted Whitney over his shoulder and straightened up.  
  
"You'll have to distract them somehow," he told her. She didn't seem to hear him, and he touched her shoulder, getting her attention. "Do you still want to do this? We can still try and make a break for it."  
  
"No.. No," She shook her head slowly. "They're too close, I can hear them. Besides, if anyone can turn them away, I can." Looking up at him, she hesitated. "If anything happens, don't tell him about me," she pleaded.  
  
"Don't think like that," he told her firmly. "We'll make it."  
  
She didn't seem very hopeful though. "If we do, he'll have questions," she said quietly. "What happens then?" Clark couldn't think of what to say to that.  
  
"Clark, come' on!" Chloe called out. She nodded towards the barn nervously.  
  
Hefting Whitney again, he nodded and looked at Tina again. "If he does," he said, "we'll just have to answer them." She frowned and looked away. "We'll find a way," he promised. Then, the sound of the Luthorcorp caravan pounding in his ears, he turned and ran towards the barn with Chloe close behind him.  
  
The barn stood at the corner of the farm, the largest of all the buildings. It wasn't in as bad condition as the others, a testament to the care and effort generations of Kents had put into its construction. Clark pulled the barn door open with one hand, the other steadying Whitney on his shoulder. Chloe ran through the opening and Clark followed after her, pausing to glance back at Tina. She was standing by the truck, watching them go. As she saw him looking, she nodded and turned to face the other end of the farm, where the dirt road ended.  
  
"Clark!" Chloe's voice called him back. He glanced back at her and nodded slightly, and then he pulled the door shut behind them. Forcing himself onwards, he carried Whitney to the back of the barn where Chloe was crouching.  
  
"Why did she do that?" she asked him, looking confused.  
  
"Because she could," he told her quietly. "And because she could, she had to." She blinked in confusion, but he waved her questions away. "We don't have much time left." He led her straight away to a corner of the barn that was stacked with tools and other rusted bits of tractors and mowers. Bending down, he scanned the floor boards intently and then smiled and pried up the corner of one plank in particular. It came away easily, revealing a handle stuck the floor. As he pulled it up, more boards came with it, revealing a hidden cellar door.  
  
"Neat," Chloe said quietly, staring down into it. "I didn't know most farms came with those."  
  
"Most don't," he grunted, shifting Whitney around on his shoulders and looking down into the hidden cellar. "Apparently, I had a great- grandfather who used to run a distillery on the farm during Prohibition. He built this to hide it when people started nosing around. We use it to hide my ship on the farm." He nodded to her quickly. "There's stairs, but I don't know if I'd trust them after all this time. You better go first; I can help you down and then lower Whitney to you."  
  
Chloe nodded and sat down on the edge of the cellar, taking his hand. Slowly and carefully, she eased over the edge and he started to lower her down. She suddenly blanched and wrinkled up her face. "What's that smell?" she asked, gagging.  
  
"Bat guano," he remarked. Her eyes rolled a little wildly, but she forced a grin on her face. He smiled at her quickly and felt her touch the bottom. Letting go, he took Whitney by the shoulders and slowly lowered him down into the cellar as well. He could hear the trucks outside the barn now. They were almost right on top of them. Unable to wait, he dropped Whitney the last few feet and then scrambled in after him, pulling the door shut behind them. Strangely, he thought of Bruce for a moment as he dropped down into the fetid cellar. Then the door slammed shut above him and everything was silent.  
  
"Come' on," Tina hissed at herself, standing alone as the others ran off. "What are you scared off? You knew this would happen one day. It's not like you haven't had plenty of time to get used to it." Her voice was the only thing brave about her. She knew if she could move her legs, she'd be running right now. Every fiber of her being, every survival instinct she'd ever honed to survive here, was screaming at her to run before she was discovered. Instead, she stood as if rooted to the ground, listening to the sound of the cars get closer and closer.  
  
This isn't going to work, a part of her screamed desperately. This isn't going to work, you'll going to get caught and put in a cage and poked and prodded and cut up till there's nothing left of you- Shaking her head, she tried to shut the voice up, but it was impossible to ignore it. It was, after all, the voice of her mother talking to her.  
  
"Shut up, shut up," she told herself. "This is going to work. I'm going to get out of here and I'll find Whitney and everything will be better, you'll see." Her mother's voice receded a little, but she could still hear it, humming away worriedly in the back of her mind. "I can do this," she said again. "I can." Her voice quaked in her throat as she repeated it.  
  
The cars were getting close now. She could hear them rumbling just past the bend in the road. They'd be within sight in moments. "Better get ready," she muttered, drying her hands against her sides. Quickly, she stripped, and threw her clothes into the bottom of the truck, and then stood naked in the middle of the farm. With effort, she closed her eyes and concentrated, frowning intensely. It had been a long time since she'd used her powers, but the change came almost instantaneously. Her skin writhed and started to shift, flowing over her growing bones. She could feel her hair grow out of her scalp, changing color and texture. Concentrating, she forced her skin to change composition and form into a suit, duplicating the texture and feel of the cloth. Other changes happened as well, all over her body. It had taken a bit of time to get used to those sort of changes, she didn't feel comfortable in a man's body, but she'd grown used to it eventually. When it was done, Tina Greer was gone, in her place stood a tall, craggy looking man in an impeccable suit. His red, wavy hair flowed wildly behind him. Lionel Luthor stood in the young girl's place.  
  
She flexed her mouth gingerly, moving her head side to side and cracking her neck. "There," she said experimentally, judging the quality of her new voice and finding it satisfactory. She brushed off his suit and readied herself, staring out over the farm. Trying to smile, she kept her nerves tightly contained, waiting.  
  
The first of the cars rumbled around the bend and into the farm. They were all dark gray and looked cruelly powerful. The windows were tinted like mirrors, keeping her from seeing inside. They all bore the swept back Luthor Corps insignia. The first cars circled the farmyard and screeched to a halt, and soldiers poured out, standing at attention. She smiled and nodded to them genially, but they didn't respond. Then the rest of the cars poured into the yard.  
  
Her smile started to falter as they kept coming. Whitney had looked frightened when he'd warned them, but she'd assumed it had been just shock. After a minute's time, the cars were still coming. They eventually ran out of room in the yard, and the last cars rumbled to a stop outside the gate. There was silence for a moment as she stood there, smiling nervously at them. "Very good," she said to them in Lionel's voice. "Very good."  
  
None of the soldier's responded. This isn't going to work, we should have run, her mother's voice moaned at her quietly. Glancing around, she started feel the sweat trickle down the back of her neck. "Who's in charge here?" she asked after a moment, smiling.  
  
In response, one of the cars parked in the center of the farm yard opened its doors. She turned to it, but instead of the grizzled commander she'd been expecting, a young girl stepped out of the car. Tina felt a shock go through her as she stared at her. The girl had short, black hair and an almost exotic cast to her face. She was also wearing a Luthor Corps uniform. She stared at Tina coldly, waiting.  
  
Flustered, Tina tried to recover herself. "Explain yourself, soldier," she demanded. The girl raised one of her eyebrows slightly, and then looked inside the cab of the car she was standing besides for a moment. Then she nodded and looked back at Tina. In one clean movement, she swung a small gun up and aimed it at Tina.  
  
"Wait!" she said, throwing her hands up. The girl fired at her and a green bolt of light streaked towards her. It blasted against her shoulder and threw her backwards in a spin. She tumbled roughly and then lay there, stunned. Slowly, she pulled herself up, almost blinded by the pain racking her body. Her shoulder was bleeding heavily, the skin charred and blackened around the blast mark. Covering her shoulder gingerly, she stared up at the girl. She still had the gun leveled at her.  
  
"What are you doing?" she rasped. "Don't you know who I am?"  
  
The other car door opened on the other side of the girl. A tall, lanky man stepped out, staring at Tina coldly. His red, wavy mane of hair whipped behind him wildly in the wind. She stared at him, feeling the last shred of hope die in her stomach.  
  
Lionel Luthor walked over to her and knelt down beside her. The girl followed after him, and got down on one knee by her head. She pressed the barrel of that strange gun she'd shot her with against her head and waited, her mouth a tight, thin line. Lionel smiled at her snidely and tilted his head, studying her. "That my friend," he said, "is exactly what we were wondering." 


	18. Beautiful, isn't she

Chapter 17  
  
Clark and Chloe had been waiting in silence in the darkened cellar. They could hear the cars rumble into the yard and then everything became quiet. Whitney lay on the floor in a heap, still unconscious. Chloe squatted nervously on the ground, chewing her lip quietly. Clark stood staring upwards, watching everything unfold with his x-ray vision. It was hard to tell what was going on though. He could hear the sounds from the yard easily, even in the cellar, but no one was speaking now. Picking out people was almost impossible as well. He could spot Tina easily enough, the green glow from her body marking her no matter what she looked like, but everyone else was just a random skeleton. The only thing he could tell was that there were a lot of soldiers up there. A lot of them.  
  
"What's going on?" Chloe whispered to him. He glanced away and shook his head. "Can't you tell?" she asked, but he turned away, hearing someone say something. It hadn't sounded like Tina, but the voice had still been familiar. "What is it?" Chloe asked again, but he hushed her with a quick wave of his hand. "I can't stand this," she muttered to herself quietly.  
  
"Be quiet," he hissed at her, looking away. "I can't hear anything if you're-" and suddenly they could both hear the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired from outside. Chloe was up in a flash, standing next to him, as he spun around, staring through the walls and ceiling to see what was going on. Tina was down, lying prone at the feet of two other figures. For a moment, he feared the worst, but then he saw her move slightly, alive, but clearly injured.  
  
"What happened?" Chloe asked into his ear, her voice no more than a whisper. "Did they."  
  
"They shot her," he said grimly, "but she's still alive. Something must have gone wrong."  
  
"Gee, what tipped you off?" she asked, her voice strained.  
  
He ignored her and stared around, trying to think. There was no way they could just leave her out there. He looked outside again and then turned around, staring around the farm, searching for an idea. "You have to stay here," he said finally. "I'm going out."  
  
"To do what? Get shot too?"  
  
"It's my fault she's out there," he snapped at her. "You guys came for me; I led you all into this." He reached up and started to push against the trapdoor.  
  
"We chose to come after you," she said, grabbing his arm. "We knew what might happen. And remember what Whitney said? You're too important to lose. Don't do this," she pleaded with him.  
  
"Yeah, well, he also said he'd be the one out there and look how that turned out," Clark said, turning away from her. "This is my home, I should've been the one out there," he muttered angrily. He opened the trapdoor a bit and got ready to pull himself up.  
  
"Clark, if you go out there, I'm coming after you," Chloe said firmly, making him stop. He blinked and stared at her, letting the trapdoor fall shut. She stood there resolutely, daring him.  
  
"I thought you were against being the martyr," he said quietly. She shrugged and lifted her chin. "I can't protect you out there."  
  
"Don't need it," she shrugged. "I know how to take care of myself."  
  
"Not against them," he said. "Chloe, I can't leave her out there, and you'll just get in my way if you come after me." She didn't move. He stared upwards, looking through the boards again. "Chloe, we don't have time for this, stay here!"  
  
"No," she said. "If you go out there I'm coming after you." He stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head, his breath whistling out in irritation.  
  
"Fine, but for God's sake, stay out of sight." She blinked and then nodded quickly, going a little pale. He pointed to Whitney, still unconscious on the floor. "What about Whitney?"  
  
"He'll be safe in here," she told him, glancing back at Whitney. Clark looked at her sadly and pushed open the trapdoor, moving as fast as possible. The rest of the world seemed to be moving by at a snail's pace as he leapt out of the cellar and landed lightly on the barn floor. He slammed the trapdoor shut and replaced the boards so that it was hidden again. Then for good measure, he pulled a heavy crate of tools over on top of the door. It would take her only a few seconds to notice that he was gone, but it would already be too late.  
  
"Sorry, Chloe," he muttered. Then he glanced up and sped outside, circling around the farm buildings. Even moving this quickly, he tried to keep himself out of sight of the massed troops. He paused behind an old cow shed and watched them through the slats.  
  
He said a thankful prayer as he saw Tina was still alive. She was surrounded by troops though, and they all appeared to be carrying the same time of meteor rock powered guns. He hesitated, thinking quickly. There were too many to risk just charging in. He could grab Tina, but he'd never be able to pick-up Chloe and Whitney without being discovered. He'd have to watch and wait for an opportunity.  
  
"I'm growing impatient, Lana," Lionel growled. He chewed on fist, staring at the man lying wounded on the ground. "If you can't find out anything, then we can take him back to the labs to perform a more thorough interrogation." Lana looked up and nodded quickly.  
  
"We're almost there, sir," she promised. "I can do this, I just need a little more time." He grunted irritably, but signaled for her to continue. She turned around and bent down over the wounded man. He flinched away from her, but she quickly grabbed his shoulder and pressed her thumb down hard on it. He stiffened suddenly, biting off a cry of pain. Thunder rumbled quietly from the massing clouds overhead. It was rapidly getting darker over the farm. She moved her thumb around grimly, trying to ignore his agony.  
  
"Just tell us who you are and the pain will stop," she told him quietly. Tightening her grip a bit more, she went on, "It's useless to hold off like this. We'll find out everything eventually." The man's lips were trembling, pressed together tightly against the pain. She slackened her grip and waited, studying him. He lay back, pale and panting heavily. Sweat was streaming down his face in rivets. Even now, she was struck by how closely he resembled Mr. Luthor.  
  
"How did you manage that?" she asked. "At first, I thought it was some kind of mask or make-up, but it's not. Was it surgery?" He didn't answer and she reached over, tugging his face up. The look in his eyes was pure murder.  
  
"I am. Lionel Luthor," he coughed out. "This is my-"  
  
"At first, I thought this was flattering, but now it's just getting ridiculous," Lionel exploded behind her. He stormed over to them and roughly pushed Lana aside. Grabbing the lapels of the other man's suit, he pulled him up bodily. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "This farm; this house; its all my property. Were you looking for something? What?"  
  
Lana stared up at him from where she had fallen, too shocked to move. "Sir."  
  
"It's not yours," the other man grimaced.  
  
The fury left Lionel's face like it had been swept away. "What did you say?" he asked. The other man didn't answer. A muscle began to twitch rhythmically in Lionel's jaw as he stared at him. Then he dropped the man roughly and backed away.  
  
"Lana," he said, "hand me your gun, please." She blinked and then hurriedly placed it in his outstretched hand. He leveled smoothly at the other man and waited. The wounded man pulled himself up to his knees, his head a foot from the barrel. Thunder rumbled again from overhead. "For the last time, what do you mean?"  
  
"It's his," the man said quietly. He cradled his shoulder with one hand and stared up at them. Then before their startled eyes, the man started to change. His features flowed around, changing shape and texture. Lana could only stare as his red hair writhed and started to grow longer and darker. His body contracted, growing smaller and thinner. Then it was done, and the man was no longer there, in his place was a young girl. She had long dark hair with an angular face, and looked to be no older than Lana. The tailored suit was gone as well; in its place she seemed to be wearing a formless black cloth that was molded to her skin. Then Lana noticed that while one of her shoulders was covered by the cloth, the other, the wounded one was not. Amazed, she watched the black cloth flow up the girl's arm, trying to cover the wound, but then fall back around it, leaving her shoulder exposed. The girl flinched as it did so, staring at them.  
  
"What are you?" Lana asked, horrified.  
  
"Just a victim," the girl snarled, her face looking haggard. Her entire shoulder was red and swollen now. She swayed a little, breathing heavily.  
  
"Very. interesting," Lionel said quietly, pausing for a moment. He still had the gun trained on her. "Well, it does answer one question; it seems we missed one at least. If I cared enough, I'd ask if there are any more of you out there, but right now, I only want to know one thing. What did you mean before? Who were you talking about?"  
  
The girl smiled grimly at him, but said nothing. Lionel waited, his lip twitching wildly. "Fine," he snarled. He readied the gun, his fingers tightening on the grip. The girl closed her eyes, tears spilling out them as she waited for the blast. Thunder rippled again across the sky. Lana's eyes went from the girl to Lionel and then back again. The seconds ticked by, but no shot came. Finally, the girl opened her eyes, looking up at him.  
  
The gun was slack in Lionel's hands. He stared up at the vacant house, his mouth half open and his face as white as a ghost. "It's not possible," he whispered. Lana could only stare at him. "No, it's not possible. He can't know."  
  
"Sir?" she asked, stepping towards him. He didn't seem to hear her at all, his entire being seemed centered on the house. "Sir?" she asked again, touching his arm. "What's the matter?"  
  
He jerked roughly under her touch, his head whipping towards her. He blinked, almost not seeing her and then broke into a run, straight towards the house. "Sir!" she yelled after him. He kept going, running up the path and climbing over the broken down porch. He yanked open the door roughly and disappeared inside the house. Some of her men stared after him and then looked to her, uncertain. A few of them started to follow after Lionel towards the house. "Stay where you are," she barked at them.  
  
They stopped short, not a few of them staring incredulously at her. "You want us to leave him in there?" one of them protested.  
  
"Standing orders, Beel," she said, recognizing him. "No one but Mr. Luthor or myself goes in there. Fall in now, hurry."  
  
Beel raised his eyebrows and she waited, watching him carefully. He was one of the older men under her command, with more years experience than she'd been alive. She knew her being put in command of the Corps had caused a few protests and resignations, but regardless of that, she was in command. Since her promotions, she'd worked tirelessly to prove herself to the doubtful troops, and in that time, most of them had come to accept her. Still, she needed instant obedience from her men or that authority she'd worked so hard to cultivate would fall apart.  
  
"Did you not hear me, Lieutenant?" she stressed, hating him for putting her in this situation. They didn't have time for this sort of thing, but he'd forced her. Beel frowned and then nodded to the rest of the men around him. A few of the soldiers looked conflicted, staring between her and the house, but they followed him over to her.  
  
"Ma'am," one of them said as they jogged over. She curled her lips slightly and turned away, surveying the rest of her men. Not a few of them gave the girl on the ground a wide berth. They shifted their guns in their hands, and she was almost pleased to see that they looked just as worried as she did.  
  
"I want two squads on a roving patrol around the area," she began quickly. Pointing to a young looking soldier, she nodded at him. "Codel, take the outer perimeter. Sweep the fields to the forest and keep in contact. Beel, you've got the farm. Be careful, we don't know what the situation is, but something's definitely wrong here." He nodded quickly and almost involuntarily glanced up at the house. "Don't worry," she assured him. "I'll be heading in after him."  
  
Turning back to the girl, Lana stared down at her, and then pulled out her other gun from a side holster. It wasn't an M-model, powered by the meteor rocks, but it was .50 caliber, gun enough to handle almost anything. She cocked it audibly and stared at the girl, feeling that familiar red hate bubble up through her suddenly. The girl panted, staring at the ground. "If anything happens to him in there.," she warned, grinding her teeth.  
  
"I hope something does," she mumbled back, her eyes fluttering back. Lana snarled back at her and smashed her across the back of her head with the butt of the gun. The girl collapsed in a heap with a groan. She lay on the ground, coughing in the dirt, still conscious.  
  
"Leave ten men here to guard her," Lana told them firmly. "If she starts moving, don't hesitate to fire. The lab might want to study her, but they can do that just as well on an autopsy table." She scanned their faces for fear, but found none. They were all hardened troops, hand-picked from freelance groups or ex-military. They were literally the best money could buy, and carried the latest in equipment. There was nothing on this world they couldn't handle.  
  
Which was exactly the problem, she thought to herself suddenly.  
  
Thunder rolled overhead again, sending a shiver down her spine. The run down farm buildings and broken machinery looked even more foreboding under the darkening sky. Even worse was that cold feeling in her gut, the kind she had been trained to recognize. It meant someone was watching her. "I hate this place," she muttered out loud. "We should have burned it out a long time ago."  
  
Pushing her fears away, she glanced around and signaled for them to move out quickly. They hurried off, forming up into search teams and dispersing over the farm. "Keep in constant communication," she shouted out. "If you find something, I want everyone to know about it." Then she turned to the house and steeled herself. "Here goes everything," she muttered quietly and began to jog up towards it.  
  
She'd been to the farm twice before, but had never come more than fifty paces near the house. That was hardly surprising in itself, Lex had never even been here, and perhaps he didn't even know it existed. The other troops that accompanied them never knew the place was any different from the countless other homes Lionel owned. It wasn't listed on any tax forms, and anyone investigating the ownership would've had to unravel a paper trail more than a mile long. Driving by it, if you could get that close, past all the hidden surveillance and purposely-confusing signs and roads, you'd never know there was anything different about it.  
  
Even Lana didn't know why Lionel was so secretive about this place. She'd rather have just forgotten it had ever existed. Something about the place always chilled her, leaving her edgy for days afterwards. It wasn't that it was abandoned, she'd seen enough of that in her lifetime, but rather it felt worse. It always felt to her like the farm had been spoiled, ruined. Like it had could've been a place of beauty, but something had destroyed that and left it to waste away instead.  
  
She cleared the ruined front stoop in one leap and pulled herself up onto the doorframe. Dried paint flaked off the wood as she gripped the sides of the door, peering in nervously. The air inside smelt dank and stale, and there didn't seem to be much light to see by. "Sir?" she called out, hesitating. "Mr. Luthor!" There was no answer. Swallowing, she let go of the door and stepped further in.  
  
Past the doorway, she came to the ruins of a kitchen and what looked like a family room at the other end of the house. The floor was covered with dead leaves and bits of plaster and wood from the walls. It looked like some animal had made a nest in one of the cabinets, but it was abandoned now. A sudden draft blew through the house, sending the leaves on the floor skittering against the sides of the walls. Lana jumped a little, but she controlled herself. Tightening her grip on her gun, she continued through the house, her senses like razors.  
  
Her eyes caught sight of something in the living room that made her stop for a second. There was an old battered picture frame lying on the floor. The glass covering was smashed in, but the picture was there, a little faded and water-damaged, but some details could be made out. It was of a man and a woman, standing close together and smiling. They were clearly a couple, or married. The man was young, probably only in his late twenties, but looked at least ten years older. He had a simple, honest, attractive face. The woman-  
  
A sudden noise above her made Lana jump in surprise. A bit of plaster rained down on her shoulder from the ceiling and she heard the ceiling beams creak. Readying her gun, she waited, staring upwards. She stayed that way for almost a minute, all her senses fixed above her. Finally, she eased off on the gun and lowered it. She looked up for another moment and then bent back down to the picture.  
  
The woman had long, red hair and a sweet face. She seemed young, younger than the man, but more confident. Lana stared at if for a moment and then picked up the frame, studying it closer. There was something familiar about the woman, she thought. It was her smile, she realized slowly. Something about the sure, faithful way she was smiling. Her mother had smiled like that, she thought to herself. Even in the bad times, she'd always smiled.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't she?" Lionel's voice came from nowhere. She jumped, spinning around to face him. He stood there quietly, smiling at her, his face a mystery. He looked away from her and patted the walls of the house lovingly. "Weathered, scarred, but you can see the vestiges of true beauty. Time and circumstances have both left their mark, but they could never demean her. Never in a hundred lifetimes." He smiled and looked back at her. "Lana?" he asked, gesturing at her hands. She looked down and was startled to see that she was aiming the gun straight at him. The trigger was pulled back, a hair's breadth from firing.  
  
Slowly, she eased back on her grip and let the gun drop to her side. She let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and stared at him. "Sir, we need to get you to safety. Something's going on here."  
  
"Yes, I would say that," he agreed quietly. "He's been here, perhaps he's still here."  
  
"What do you mean? Who?" she asked.  
  
He looked back at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The alien. The second one. He's here," he said calmly. "He knows. Find him." 


	19. Fanning the flames

Chapter 18  
  
Clark watched the soldiers disperse across the farms in groups from behind the shed. One of the soldiers broke off from the others and ran into the house, following after the first man who'd entered before. Using only his x-ray vision made it a little difficult to make out the details of what was happening, but he could tell that this was his best chance. He could see Tina still lying prone on the ground, guarded, but now only by ten men instead of the entire group. If he kept moving, he could probably take out all of them before they could fire a shot off. Still, he thought, the problem was getting away once he had her. With all the soldiers searching the farm, he'd never be able to grab Tina and then Chloe and Whitney as well. And there was another problem, he thought grimly. The soldiers would probably check the barn first, and if they found the cellar things would get a lot worse very quickly.  
  
He dashed quickly towards the back of the barn and slipped in through small door, keeping to the shadows. The only light streaming into the barn came from the cracked window in the loft, casting a small pool of brightness on the ground floor. The rest of the barn lay cloaked in darkness. Glancing through the floor, he could see Chloe kneeling by Whitney down in the cellar. At least he was finally conscious now. Then he swung his head up, looking through the barn doors.  
  
As he stepped back further into the shadows, the barn doors slid open noisily and four soldiers appeared in the main doors, staring around. Thankfully, Clark saw that they weren't carrying the meteor-powered rifles from before. Not that they were completely harmless, he thought dryly; each soldier was heavily armed and looked like they wouldn't hesitate to open fire on the first thing that moved. Things could definitely get very bad here very quickly.  
  
One of them clicked on a flashlight and pointed it towards the loft, signaling two of them to search it silently. They broke off and slowly climbed the loft stairs, guns at the ready. Clark waited, watching both groups. He hesitated for a moment and then jumped up and caught the edge of the loft, pulling himself up quickly. The two soldiers separated, one heading towards the cracked window. He glanced through it quickly, and then tried to move the edges of the window. The other searched around, looking up in the rafters. Clark remained where he was crouched for a moment and then he started to creep towards the moving soldier from behind. He closed the distance quietly, his hands at the ready. He'd have to move quickly, he thought, if this was going to work. If he could immobilize every man before they knew what was happening, he might have a chance of pulling this off.  
  
The loft window crashed open suddenly as the soldier managed to force the edges to move. Sunlight flooded into the loft temporarily blinding everyone. The soldier looked away, shading his eyes with his arms from the sudden brightness. Clark stood there blinking, frozen in place as he locked eyes with the shocked man. "Behind you!" the soldier started to yell to his partner, scrambling to bring up his gun. Clark hissed in irritation and started to move.  
  
Extending his arm, he dashed past the first soldier and clotheslined him roughly. The soldier was knocked head over heels and landed with a loud thud on the wooden floor. He didn't get up. Clark didn't stop moving, leaping over him and closing the distance to the window. Moving at his speed, the second man looked to Clark to be frozen in the act of reaching for his gun. Clark almost felt sorry for him. He picked up the soldier by his helmet with one hand and slammed him into the window frame, making the entire wall shudder. A few cracks appeared in the frame from around the back of the man's helmet. The soldier flopped for a moment and then went limp. Frowning, Clark checked him with his x-ray vision for a moment and then dropped him.  
  
"Sam? Everything okay up there?" one of the other soldiers called from downstairs. Clark frowned, staring down at them through the loft boards. He hadn't meant to give them any warning. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold.  
  
"Possible contact in the barn loft," he could hear the other soldier rasp into his walkie-talkie. There was a faint hiss of status and then Clark heard the acknowledgement on the other end. He definitely hadn't meant to give them time enough for that.  
  
Throwing caution to the winds, Clark ran to the edge of the loft and jumped off, coming down almost on top of the two soldiers. They cursed something and started to raise their guns, but he struck one of them lightly across the jaw, sending the man's head snapping back. Before he could fall though Clark grabbed him by his jacket and spun him around into his partner. Both men flew through the air and crashed through the side of the old horse stall in the side of the barn. Clark waited, watching the dust settle around them, but neither moved.  
  
For a moment he felt like smiling. Then he stared through the barn walls and all his good feelings evaporated. He could see over a dozen figures advancing towards the barn in all directions, and more were appearing every moment.  
  
"Great, Clark," he muttered to himself in frustration. He spun around, still staring through the woodwork. "You're really keeping everyone safe here."  
  
He dashed over to the barn doors and threw one closed quickly. Grabbing the other, he glanced out as he heard a startled cry. A swarm of bullets smashed into the wood around him as the soldiers spotted him and opened fire. Ducking his head, he slammed the door shut and then grabbed the remains of an old tractor plow. He threw it against the door to block it in and then turned around, seeing the side door he'd slipped through earlier. It hung open in the wind, swinging slightly. Even worse, he could see another soldier through the barn walls, approaching it. He was pressed up against the side of the barn, trying to keep from being seen. Clark watched him through the wall smiled grimly.  
  
Running over to the wall, Clark paused, watching the soldier, and then he smashed his fist out through the wall and caught the soldier's neck in his hand. Then he pulled back sharply and slammed the man senseless against the side of the barn. He let him drop and pulled his hand back, still smiling. Then he quickly slammed the door shut and flung the dead bolt on it, locking it.  
  
"Now lets see what happens," he muttered.  
  
Lana came charging out of the house, already shouting into her radio. "Beel, status! Beel!" She waited impatiently, looking around the farm as she did. A squad was nearby and she waved them over, still waiting for a reply. Only static came back. "Codel," she snarled, "what's your status? Why isn't Beel responding?"  
  
"Don't know," he came back over the radio. "He took a squad into the barn and then said something about a noise and we lost him. We're taking a look there now."  
  
"Forget about the other patrols," she said, "get everyone there. That's where he is."  
  
"Who, ma'am?" he sounded confused.  
  
"The alien!" she practically shrieked. "He's here on the farm right now. Trap him in the barn and wait for further instructions." She glanced up and saw the soldiers look around nervously. "You have a problem with that order?" she snapped.  
  
"No, ma'am," one of them said, snapping to attention. "It's just. we don't have the equipment to deal with him. The guns."  
  
"Are on their way," she said. She raised her radio again and spoke quickly and precisely into it. "This is LC1 for Pandora, do you copy?"  
  
"Copy, LC1," came the reply after a moment. There was a sudden burst of gunfire in the direction of the barn and everyone but Lana jumped, their weapons at the ready.  
  
"We need containment measures on site," she went on. "Location: ES241. Clearance code is 3429-345LE. Maximum spread, is that understood?" She covered her radio with her hand and glanced at the soldiers. "You may want to get over to the barn now," she said dryly. They stared at her for a moment, blinking in astonishment, and then they turned as a group and ran off. She smirked and uncovered her radio.  
  
"Copy, LC1," the reply came. "Code is accepted. Containment on the way."  
  
She nodded and did the calculations in her head. They were more than five miles from town and the labs. Getting the helicopters launched would take at least ten minutes, if it were already prepped that was. Added to that was the time it would take to get the meteor guns out of the vault. She realized slowly that they might have to hold their own here for a while. Lana grimaced. She hadn't planned on having a second confrontation with the alien so soon. She'd seen how much damage the first creature could do when it was provoked, and the second was even stronger if it was possible. She and her men were armed with only rifles and their stun batons, which were capable of delivering a nearly fatal burst of electricity to a target, but only at close range. She doubted that even if the alien let them get that close he would barely feel that.  
  
"Lana, have you called for the troops?" Lionel asked. He emerged from the house, looking shaken. His suit was wrinkled and stained from the dust inside.  
  
"Yes, sir, they're on their way." He nodded, staring off into the distance. "Sir, perhaps you'd better go back inside. This area isn't secure yet."  
  
"Have you found him yet?"  
  
"We have it pinned down in the barn," she assured him. "It's only a matter of time."  
  
"I don't have to remind you of how important this place is to me, do I?" he asked, not looking at her.  
  
"Sir, no, sir." He nodded and stared back at the house, taking in all of it. She glanced towards the barn and then looked back towards him. She bit her lip eagerly and stepped towards him. "Sir, do I have permission to use lethal-"  
  
"No," he said sternly, some of his fire coming back. Her face fell. "Not yet," he amended. "I want him alive, but I can live with the alternative. Her secret is more important to me than the alien, do you understand?" She nodded quickly trying to contain the sudden rush she felt. Saluting, she started to rush off when he called her back.  
  
"Lana, I trust you in this. Alive, if it's possible."  
  
"Of course, sir," she said guilelessly.  
  
He nodded, smiling slightly. "I think I will take your advice," he said slowly, looking towards the house. "Inform me the moment reinforcements are here. We'll be able to capture him then." She nodded again and he waved her away, heading back inside the house.  
  
She could barely stand to wait for his back to turn before she was off and running. Hurrying down the line of vehicles, she found the one she wanted and popped open the back quickly. Inside was a rack of assault rifles and ammunition, but she hardly gave these a glance. Lifting out the entire rack, she put it on the ground carelessly and reached back inside the car. She opened up a hidden compartment in the car and took out a large, gray gun. Clicking it on, she saw the firing light on the side turn a bright green and she smiled. It had been specially designed for her, with more than twice the firepower of the normal meteor powered models. Hefting it, she turned towards the barn and marched off.  
  
"Alive if possible," she repeated to herself. "Only if he can survive this first."  
  
Her men had the barn completely surrounded, but hadn't made any other move aside from that. They were crouched behind sheds and fence posts, staring towards it and waiting nervously. The barn was quiet looking for all the world as empty as it should have been. "Any movement?" she asked one of the soldiers as she approached him.  
  
"We got a shot off at him when he closed the doors before," he replied anxiously. He rubbed his palm against the side of his pants nervously and then gripped his gun again. "Someone tried the door in the back but he knocked him cold through the wall. Other than that, there's been no movement."  
  
"He can see through walls remember?" she reminded him dryly. "He's probably watching us now."  
  
The soldier blanched, looking back at the barn in horror. "What about back-up?" he asked.  
  
"On their way," she replied coolly. She thought for a moment and then nodded quickly. "Open fire." The soldier stared at her. "Open fire on the barn," she said more forcefully. "We'll flush him out and deal with him ourselves."  
  
"But Beel and the others are still inside. And what about backup.  
  
"Backup can scrape up what's left of him when I'm done with him," she spat out at him. "Now open fire!" He stared at her and then hefted his gun and fired a steady stream at the barn. After a moment, the rest of the soldiers joined in. Dust and splinters of wood shook out from the barn as more than thirty guns fired on it. The old wooden boards split and tore apart as the bullets crashed through them.  
  
"Come on," Lana whispered, her eyes locked on the barn as she waited. "Come on out."  
  
Inside the barn, Clark ducked as the bullets tore through the air. Tools jumped off the walls and the entire structure seemed to shake under the onslaught. One of the support beams for the loft was shattered as the gunfire tore it to pieces, sending a portion of the loft crashing down over Clark's head. He shook it off, climbing to his feet as he covered his head. A year ago, being struck by a bullet would have left a bruise behind, but by now he was strong enough to shrug a shot off like a light punch. Still, this wasn't one bullet though. He was practically knocked off his feet as he was struck back and forth from all sides. Gritting his teeth, he ducked, making himself less of a target. All around him, the barn continued to disintegrate. He saw the edge of the loft tilt and finally collapse on the far side of the barn, smashing into pieces. Another post cracked and broke off, this time causing a section of the roof to buckle. The Kent barn had withstood countless winter storms and seasons of neglect, but now it was being thoroughly destroyed in a matter of moments.  
  
If this keeps up Chloe and Whitney are going to be buried underneath all the rubble, he thought. Staring outside through all the gunfire, he could see the soldiers still unloading round after round towards him. Don't they care? Their own men are still in here! The gunfire continued, tearing through the walls and occasionally striking him. Watching his barn disintegrate under the heavy fire, Clark's face scrunched up in anger. He'd had to endure a lot since he'd come here. He'd found out his parents were dead, his home abandoned. And now his friends were hurt and in danger and these people were destroying another piece of his home. Clark wasn't a violent person by nature, but there was only so much he could take. And he'd just reached that limit.  
  
Clark stood up, hardly even feeling the bullet's impact anymore. He stared through the walls at a group of soldiers, watching them stand around a shed his father had built, using it for cover. In a second, in less than a hundredth of that, he was running, smashing through the barn wall like it wasn't even there. He ran heedlessly through the bullets, frozen as if in mid-flight, towards the soldiers. The shed exploded as he passed through it, hurtling the men through the air. They came down roughly and tumbled away. Clark slowed down momentarily, snapping around to look for another group. There was a cry from his left and then a round of gunfire struck him across the back. Five soldiers were opening fire on him from across the yard. Turning swiftly, Clark dashed towards them before they could fire another shot and smashed the lead man across the face. He went flying to the side, tumbling head over heels as he came down. Not stopping, Clark smashed through the rest of the soldiers, scattering them like ten-pins. Another soldier appeared from behind the barn, raising his rifle hastily, but Clark was already there in front of him. He snatched the weapon from the startled man and smashed the butt of it into his stomach. The man went down, the breath rushing out of him.  
  
Through the red haze, Clark heard another burst of gunfire and turned, seeing another group of soldiers standing over Tina's body. He stared at her, not even noticing the bullets striking him, only seeing her still body lying there. Then he was running across the field, moving so fast that his footprints smoked in the dirt. He grabbed one of the soldiers and flung him to the side, sending him soaring thirty feet through the air to come down hard on the roof of one of the parked cars. He battered another man aside and then grunted as one of them pulled out a metal wand of some kind and struck him with it. The end glowed a bright blue and gave out a high pitched whine as Clark felt electricity surge through his body. It hurt, but that was all. He stood there for a second, grimacing as the man held it to his chest and then he took hold of the baton and pulled it away. Smashing it in his fist, he grabbed the startled man and struck him across the helmet with the broken pieces. He was lifting him up to throw him aside when a shout broke through his rage- clouded mind.  
  
"Stop him! Quickly! He's destroying everything!" It had come from the house. He turned around slowly, still holding the stunned soldier, and looked in the direction of the familiar voice. A man was standing in the doorway of the abandoned home, looking as pale as a ghost himself. His dark brown hair stood out shockingly against his skin, and the look in his eyes was intense. It was a look Clark had seen many times before in his world. "He's ruining my home!" Lionel Luthor shrieked at the soldiers. "Do something!"  
  
"Your home?" Clark said angrily. He dropped the soldier and started to walk across the yard, picking up speed. "Your home!" he yelled. Lionel stood staring at him as he dashed across the yard towards him, Chloe, Tina, the farm, everything else forgotten. He heard the rest of the soldiers cry out helplessly, but there was no one between him and Lionel. He threw himself forward the last ten feet, his arms outstretched towards the billionaire.  
  
Then a burst of green light struck him from the side and knocked him sprawling. He tumbled wildly and went sprawling in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust and torn up soil. As he finally came to a stop, he retched, feeling the meteor rock radiation washing through him. It was more powerful than yesterday through, and he coughed, spitting something strange that tasted coppery out of his mouth. What was that taste, he a part of him wondered idly. It seemed vaguely familiar. He struggled to his feet, his vision swimming, and then saw the red flecks on the ground and remembered it was blood. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push himself up with his arms, and then collapsed as his right arm screamed in agony. His shoulder throbbed and felt like it was on fire.  
  
Through the pain, he felt a something cold and hard pressed against his head, right behind his ear. "Not so strong now, are you?" a girl's voice asked him. Clark looked up slowly, blinking the dust out of his eyes. Even with her hair cut shorter and her eyes colder and harder than he'd ever imagined, he still recognized her immediately. He'd found another of his friends.  
  
It was Lana.  
  
"Give me a reason to do it," Lana threatened him, holding the gun at his face. Her face trembled as she said it, but the gun remained steady. "Give me a reason and I'll blow you back to wherever you came from."  
  
Clark stared up at her, too shocked to respond. It was Lana, his Lana, and yet it wasn't. He could see the LuthorCorps fatigues, the short hair, and her tight, drawn eyes, everything that was different about her, but beyond that there was the something else, something in her eyes that touched him. He recognized it, the same way he had with Chloe before, but it was stronger now. There was hate and anger in her eyes, he could see that easily enough, but he could sense the pain there; the sadness that had always been a part of the Lana he knew.  
  
"It's you, Lana," he said quietly, staring up at her, not even seeing the gun.  
  
She blinked, the gun jumping a little. "You know my name?" she asked stunned. Suddenly she looked less sure of herself. "How is that." she started to ask, but then she shook herself and pressed the gun down against his temple. "Shut up! Just shut up!"  
  
"Lana, keep him there," Lionel said, running up to them, the soldiers that could still walk, following after him. Encircling Clark and Lana, they aimed their guns and waited. Lana didn't acknowledge him. She stared at Clark, grinding the gun into his skull.  
  
Clark moved his head away, but she pressed it down against him more firmly. "I said don't move!" she yelled at him.  
  
"Lana, you have to listen to me," Clark said quickly. "I'm your friend; I'm not here to hurt you. You can put the gun away." Everyone looked shocked as he spoke. Lionel glanced from Clark to Lana and then back.  
  
"You can speak English?" he asked, amazed.  
  
"He's not going to be speaking anything if he keeps it up," Lana threatened. Her finger tightened on the trigger as she kept the gun pressed against his head. Clark gritted his teeth as his shoulder scraped against the ground. He knew he could probably move fast enough to grab the gun away from her before she could fire a shot, but what about then? She wasn't just going to give up that easily. No matter how different she was, she was still Lana. Could he really fight her if he had to?  
  
"Lana, please, I'm your friend," he tried again.  
  
"Shut up!" she screamed, her face flushed with anger. "I'm not your fiend. I'll never be your friend. You killed my parents! Every last one of your kind should die," she swore coldly. Clark could only stare at her, horrified.  
  
"Now don't do anything rash yet," Lionel told her firmly. He stepped forwards, reaching out to grab her shoulder when Lana stiffened suddenly and he moved back. His face worried, but also strangely chagrined.  
  
"Lana, I need him alive, do you understand me?" he asked in a level voice. Her lip twitched nervously, but she didn't answer. She tightened her grip on the gun and stared at Clark. He looked back at her, too stunned to move. She'd pressed the trigger back halfway, only an ounce more pressure would send it back fully. "Lana," Lionel tried again. "Lana, I'm giving you a direct order now!" he snapped, his patience at an end. "You will not destroy that creature unless I give the order, do you understand?"  
  
With supreme effort, Lana seemed to come back to herself slowly. The flush faded from her face and she seemed to shrink a little. Her finger relaxed around the trigger, but she didn't take the gun away from his head yet. "Understood, sir," she breathed out quietly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"We'll deal with that later," Lionel said shortly. He glanced at Clark and pursed his lips. "Much later. There are a lot of questions I'm sure we'd all like answered, but here isn't the place. We'll be able to sort things out once we have it contained."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Clark said.  
  
Lionel smirked and looked away. "Just as stubborn as the other one," he said dryly.  
  
Clark's head jerked up roughly. A number of things clicked together in his mind suddenly. He'd wondered before about how the soldiers had known recognized him in town, how they'd known of his weakness to the meteor rocks. How could they have known about his secret and the limitations of his powers, unless they'd had a chance to study them close up before? With a sudden wave of nausea he realized that of all the people he'd wondered about in this version of Smallville, he'd never paused to think about what had happened to him here. If his ship hadn't landed in front of his parents in this world, he thought with horror, just where had it landed? Right on the Luthor's doorstep? He looked up and saw Lionel smiling tightly down at him and it was all he could do from rising up to grab hold of him. Lana seemed to sense what he was thinking and put the gun underneath his jaw.  
  
"Don't think I wouldn't do it," she said quietly.  
  
He swallowed and looked in her eyes. A part of him believed her. "I could take that gun away from you, you know," he said quietly.  
  
"Then why don't you?" she said back. He just looked back at her, shaken by what he heard in her voice.  
  
"Lana, leave him alone for now," Lionel spoke up. He looked at the scattered boards from the various sheds Clark had destroyed and then at the ruined wall of the barn. "I'd rather we didn't do any more damage here," he said tightly.  
  
"What do you care? It's my home," Clark snapped.  
  
Lionel jerked his head back, glaring at him. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his face darkening noticeably.  
  
Clark shut his mouth and didn't say anything, staring at him angrily. Lionel glowered at him and then he seemed to control himself with effort. He let out a long breath and smirked. "If you're thinking that there's nothing we can do to you, you're wrong," he said, squatting down to look at him. "Your kind is strong and practically invulnerable, it's true," he said quietly, "but there is that practically part of it that's the snag. We've had quite a bit of time to study your species, your strengths and your limitations. But what I am saying this for," he smiled suddenly, glancing at Clark's red and swollen shoulder, "I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about. So all that's left to say is that if you are hiding things from us, make no mistake, we will find out about them." He smiled at Clark and stood up. "Lana here has become quite the expert in that area."  
  
Clark looked at Lana and saw her smile tightly. Something lurched in his stomach and he thought he would be sick on the spot. It just wasn't possible. Could he have been wrong about her?  
  
"Uh, sir?" Everyone looked up suddenly as one of the soldiers spoke up.  
  
Lionel glanced at him irritably and snapped, "What is it?"  
  
"The girl, uh, the one from before," he said slowly, looking back towards the barn, "where is she?"  
  
Lionel gaped at him and then spun around and stared at where Tina had fallen. Clark craned his head to side as far as he could with the gun poking him in the head and looked as well. He could see the soldiers he'd knocked unconscious still lying there, but Tina was gone.  
  
"Spread out and search the farm," Lana snapped suddenly, glancing from Clark to where Tina had been and back again. "She can't have gotten far."  
  
"She didn't," Lionel said slowly, staring around them, his eyes going wide with alarm.  
  
"Sir?" Lana asked, confused. Lionel didn't answer, staring at the soldiers massed around them. They were still standing ready, with their rifles aimed at Clark, but they took a step back nervously as he eyed them. Slowly, Lana realization crept into her eyes and she stiffened. "She's here!" she cried, her other hand diving for the spare holster wrapped around her leg. She pulled out an automatic, but waved it around at the group, unsure of whom to aim it at. Some of the soldiers lowered their guns as others realized what had happened as well and jumped back, bringing their guns up at anyone who was near them. Then without warning a large soldier leapt forwards and grabbed Lionel, jabbing his pistol against the billionaire's throat.  
  
"Smart man," Tina's voice came out of the burly man's mouth.  
  
The soldiers shifted their aim from each other to Lionel and Tina quickly, but not quick enough. She held him tightly, moving the gun barrel up to rest against his face as she wrapped her other hand around his throat. "Don't be stupid, drop the guns," she snarled, her voice sounding strange coming from the large soldier's body.  
  
"Do what-," Lionel started to rasp out when Tina choked him off. He gasped and breathed out the rest as she loosened her grip. "Do what she says. Now!" The look he fixed her with was pure murder.  
  
"Didn't think you'd be the type to sacrifice yourself," Tina wheezed out. Her voice sounded forced and almost wet now. "Let him go!" she called then. Lana stiffened, her eyes blazing, but Tina fixed her with a steely look. "Your choice, step back, or find out what your boss looks like without a face." She moved the gun so it pressed against Lionel's eyes and waited. Lana hesitated, and then backed up from Clark, holstering her gun forcibly. She gestured to the troops and they lowered their weapons.  
  
Clark got to his feet, looking uncertainly at Lana. She glared at him from the corner of her eyes, but refused to face him.  
  
Lionel went pale with fury, almost quivering. "Whomever, whatever you are, I'm going to remember this. And no matter who you look like, or how often you change, I will find you someday," he promised.  
  
Tina flinched suddenly, but then tried to hide it. "Whatever," she shrugged. Then she looked at the soldiers. "That's not good enough, drop them all, now." They did so reluctantly. "You too, Commando Barbie," she smiled somewhat vacantly at Lana.  
  
Lana flushed, but pulled out her gun slowly. Clark readied himself, but she tossed it on the ground and stepped back. "Satisfied?" she asked snidely.  
  
"Not yet. Clark, you want to do something about that?" she asked quickly. He nodded and stared down at the gun, focusing his vision. In a moment, the gun glowed bright red and then melted into a slag of circuitry and metal. For good measure, he swept his heat-vision along the ground, super- heating the other guns.  
  
"Finished," he said.  
  
"Good," she coughed. Her eyes closed momentarily and she seemed to slump over, but she then tightened her grip on Lionel and jerked him almost off his feet. "Grab the others from the barn. Hurry!" Clark glanced at the soldiers, but she nodded towards the barn. "We don't have much time, go!"  
  
"Right," he said and dashed towards the barn. He shouldered open the bullet riddled door and stepped inside. Timber and pieces of the ceiling had collapsed all over the barn floor, forcing him to clear a path to the cellar entrance. Along the way, he heard a moan and stared quietly for a moment. Pulling a section of the collapsed loft up, he discovered two soldiers lying underneath it, part of the group that had attacked him earlier. They were badly injured, but from the look of things, still alive. He hesitated for a moment, but then his own nature took over and he picked them up as gently as possible. He carried them back through the barn and outside, laying them down against the door. Quickly, he hurried back inside. There had been four, he remembered, and stared around, using his x-ray vision to locate the others. He found them buried under more rubble. One started to cough as he pulled him out of the pile of timber he'd been lying under, but the other was already dead. Gritting his teeth, Clark gathered the two of them up and carried them outside. He set them down by the others and then returned for a final time, hoping that Chloe and Whitney would be in better shape.  
  
Tossing the last few bits of wreckage aside, Clark found the cellar door and yanked it open, almost ripping it from its hinges. He stared down into darkness for a moment and then a long handled shovel jabbed up towards his face. He snatched it away and blinked as he saw Whitney was on the other end of it. "You're alive!" he exclaimed, staring up at him.  
  
"Yeah, he's alive, great," Chloe snapped, stepping into the light. She lifted a rusted old pitchfork shakily, and banged it against the opening, trying to get it through. "Help me with this, I'm gonna kill him!" she snapped at Whitney.  
  
"Later, we have to go," Clark told her, reaching down into the opening. Whitney grabbed Chloe and boosted her up so Clark could grab her.  
  
"What about Tina?" he asked. "Where is she? Is she."  
  
"She's fine, but she's all alone out there!" Clark said. He pulled Chloe up and helped her over the lip of the entrance. She climbed to her feet and stared around, looking at the demolished loft and the numerous bullet holes along the walls.  
  
"You know, maybe it was a good idea I stayed down there," she said slowly.  
  
Clark grabbed Whitney's hand and pulled him out in one clean motion. Whitney scrambled up and then glanced at Clark's shoulder. "What happened to you?"  
  
"Later, c'mon!" he yelled, running towards the door. They followed after him.  
  
Tina still had Lionel held hostage, thankfully, but she seemed to be swaying on her feet unsteadily. Lana and the rest of the soldiers watched her with dreadful intensity, but they didn't try to move just yet. Tina still held Lionel in almost a death-grip, half-choking him. His face was actually starting to turn red as he fought for breath.  
  
"Get in the car," Tina yelled at them, her voice wavering. "Go!"  
  
Whitney stopped frozen in his tracks. "Tina?" he stared at her, almost horrified. Clark glanced at him and then realized that Tina hadn't changed back yet. She was still in the form of one of the LuthorCorp soldiers. "What." Whitney started, his face blank and uncomprehending.  
  
Tina flinched away, turning her face away from them. "Get one of the cars, come on! They've called for support, they'll be here any minute."  
  
Chloe glanced from Tina to Clark, and then to Whitney. "Okay, that's good enough for me. Com'on," she waved to them and ran towards one of the LuthorCorp vehicles. "Forget the clunker, we'd be better off in this."  
  
"Right," Clark agreed, and then he ran back towards Whitney. He was still standing there, staring at Tina. Grabbing his arm, Clark forced him to look towards him. "We'll talk about it later, okay, but not now." Whitney stared back at him numbly. "Get one of them started," Clark told him and shoved him towards Chloe. Then he turned back towards Tina.  
  
"Just get them away," she gasped at him as he came closer, her voice catching. Her face was streaked with sweat now, and more disturbingly, the features on the soldier she'd impersonated had started to loosen up, making her face look like a mask of soft wax. Blood spilled out of her mouth suddenly and she coughed, hacking it up. "Get them away," she wheezed again.  
  
"Not without you," he told her. He took her by the shoulders and for a moment, she resisted, but then she seemed to collapse in his arms. Lionel fell away, gasping in air as he was able to breathe again. He held his hands to this throat and stared at them, grimacing as he fought for breath. Clark hefted Tina in his arms and stared right back at him. "This isn't over," he said quietly. Lionel was coughing too fiercely to respond, but the look in his eyes said enough.  
  
Finally, he looked at Lana. She stared back at him with such naked hate in her eyes that it almost made him sick to his stomach. "Three of your men are by the barn," he said quietly, "I couldn't save the fourth. I'm sorry."  
  
Lana went pale and then flushed again, blinking quickly. "You're lying. You don't care."  
  
"I do," he swore. "Look, I didn't start this fight. I didn't want it."  
  
"You started it fourteen years ago," she said coldly. Clark could think of nothing to say to that.  
  
"Clark, let's go!" Chloe yelled from across the yard. He looked at Lana sadly for a moment and then turned and ran, carrying Tina in his arms. She wheezed painfully as he ran, going pale. Whitney and Tina were inside the cab of one of the dark gray SUV's that the soldiers had arrived in. Whitney was frantically rummaging around the front seat, looking for something.  
  
"What are we waiting for?" Clark asked, opening the back door. He lay Tina down on the floor of the cab trying not to jostle her too badly. She coughed weakly and lay there, her face white. She still held the gun tightly in her hand.  
  
"I can't find the damn keys," Whitney snapped, still rummaging around. "One of the soldiers might still have them," he looked up at Clark.  
  
"So what do we do? Ask them for them?" he snapped back, his temper fraying.  
  
"God, you two are children," Chloe snapped. She shoved Whitney aside and crawled down underneath the steering wheel. Pulling back the covering, she started to reach inside, pulling out wires. "Can hack into a computer system, fine, sure," she mumbled, "can benchpress a buick, yeah, easy, but can either of them hotwire a car? Didn't think so." She glanced up at him suddenly. "Hey, it might be a good idea to do the eye thing to the other cars, you know."  
  
"Eye thing. Oh, right!" he said. She rolled her eyes and looked back at her work.  
  
Clark jumped out from the car and turned around, focusing his eyes. Pressed for time, he just swept his heat-vision on full blast down the line of cars. One by one, they started to smolder as the interiors ignited and tires melted and exploded in rushes of compressed air. When he was satisfied they were all scrapped, he turned around and started back.  
  
Suddenly there was a roaring sound in her head that seemed to eclipse everything. He sagged, falling to his knees and he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain. In the midst of it, he heard someone's voice call out through the din. Trackers in the car there are trackers in the cars show you where they are here here here hurry. Not in control of his actions, Clark opened his eyes and stared through the car, his eyes falling on a small blinking box underneath the driver's seat.  
  
And then like that, the noise was gone. Shaking his head, Clark climbed to his feet. Blinking rapidly, he glanced over at Lionel and the rest, and caught the wondering look on the billionaire's face. Then he heard the car roar to life suddenly and Chloe call out in triumph. Turning quickly he ran back to the car.  
  
"What did I tell you?" she laughed at him as she climbed out from under the steering wheel. "What did I tell you?"  
  
"Good job. Excuse me a minute," he said and punched through the floor by her. Feeling around, he found the box and ripped it out quickly. He tossed it over his shoulder neglibably.  
  
"Um, we're not going to need that, are we?" she asked, staring at it.  
  
"Not unless we want them following us," he told her, shoving her into the driver's seat. "Drive!" he said tersely.  
  
"What? Where?"  
  
"Anywhere other than here," he said. She swallowed and nodded, gunning the engine. The car lurched and they took off, rocketing through the farm gates and onto the dirt road.  
  
Clark climbed around to the back, stepping over Tina. Whitney was sitting numbly beside her, just staring down at her. "How's she doing?" he asked quickly.  
  
Whitney looked up at him and then shook his head, looking overwhelmed. "I don't know. I." he floundered and then looked away, "I don't know." Clark gripped his shoulder comfortingly.  
  
"She's going to be fine," he told him. "She's strong, she'll pull through." Whitney stared down at her and didn't say anything. She moaned suddenly and her wound reopened more, spilling blood down shoulder. Her body twisted and then flowed back quickly into her original form. To his amazement, the gun she'd threatened Lionel with, disappeared into her hand, flowing back inside of her.  
  
"Fooled 'em," Tina said shakily. Her eyes were unfocused and dim, and her voice wavered weakly. "Fooled them all." She winced as the car bounced and Clark took her hand, trying to comfort her. Whitney sat there numbly, staring down at her, almost not even seeming to see her at all.  
  
Even as he held her hand though, Clark glanced back through the rear windows and saw the farm slowly disappear behind them. With a sudden sinking feeling he knew he would never see it again, not in this world at least. The feeling shook him deeply and not for the first time, he wondered if he would ever be able to get home at all. 


	20. Old friends

Chapter 19  
  
They had narrowly escaped being captured on the farm, but they weren't out of danger yet. Clark clung to the edge of his seat, his mind running just as fast as the car as they tore through the back roads of Smallville. Presently no one had spotted them, but they were driving a stolen a LuthorCorps vehicle and there was no telling how many people Lionel had put on their trail. For the last hour, they'd been roaring down all the back roads and short cuts that he could think of, trying to find some way place to stay out of sight. Unfortunately, his memories were of a different Smallville and were prone to be mistaken.  
  
"Not again," Chloe moaned as they came up on another dead end. The shaded dirt road they'd been traveling on had ended besides a large pond and the ruins of an old mill. "What do we do, head back or try and go around it?"  
  
"There doesn't look to be much on the other side," Clark said. "There should have been a bridge here. Or at least, I remember one being here," he finished.  
  
Chloe nodded and then looked back at him, a touch worried. "How's Tina doing?" she asked quietly.  
  
Clark hesitated and glanced back quickly. Tina lay on the floor, pale and sweating. Practically as soon as they'd gotten her back in the car, the wound in her shoulder had reopened, spilling blood everywhere. It seemed that she'd been holding it closed with her will alone, at that had already been stretched too far already. It had taken a frighteningly long time to get the bleeding to stop.  
  
In the end, they'd bandaged her shoulder up as best as they could with a first aid kit they'd found in the car, but she had still lost a lot of blood. The bumpy road hadn't helped any either, making her cry out with pain every time the car hit a bad patch. For a while now, she'd lapsed into unconsciousness, but Clark didn't know whether that was good or bad. At least she didn't seem to be in pain anymore, but if she never came out of it.  
"I'm not sure how much more she can take," he said seriously to her. "She was shot and then had to hold herself together until we could all get away. The strain alone had to be incredible."  
  
"We're going to have to get her to a hospital, aren't we?" Chloe commented. Clark nodded grimly. "You realize if we did that, we might as well be handing ourselves over to the Luthors," she pointed out.  
  
"Maybe we can find a doctor or something. Somebody whose not going to turn us in as soon as we walk in the door."  
  
Chloe spread her hands out plaintively. "Got any ideas?"  
  
"Keep driving," he breathed out. "We'll think of something." She nodded and put the car in reverse. As they pulled out, Clark moved into the back of the car, stepping over Tina carefully. Whitney was sitting beside her, staring blankly down at her. He obviously hadn't gotten over the shock of seeing Tina use her powers yet. He didn't look repelled though, Clark noticed, or worried about her either, he realized as well. He just looked numbed, like it was just too much to take in all at once. Clark knew the feeling.  
  
"Whitney," he shook his shoulder gently. Whitney stirred and looked at him dully. "We need to find a doctor for Tina," he explained gently. "Is there anywhere you can think of?"  
  
"Doctor?" he repeated slowly. Something like concern touched his eyes and he looked down at her, and then jerked his eyes away, troubled. "Would they know. I mean. about her. how to.?" he hesitated, casting his eyes around everywhere but at Tina.  
  
"I don't think it would be that different," he said it more stiffly than he'd intended. Continuing more gently, he said, "And we don't have any other choice. Can you think of anyone who could take her?"  
  
"No," he said quietly. He stared out the window and shook his head again. Clark's face fell and he sighed.  
  
"Guess we'll keep driving then," he muttered. "Maybe we'll find something." He started to climb back up into the front when Whitney's voice stopped him.  
"Wait," he said suddenly. Whitney sat there, his mouth open, thinking intently for a moment and then he nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I might know someone," he muttered angrily. He flushed and dashed his arm against his eyes quickly. Pushing himself past Clark, he stood behind the driver's seat and leaned over to Chloe. "Move over," he told her shortly.  
  
"About time, I've been going in circles up here," she said as she stopped the car. She climbed into the passenger's seat as Whitney took the wheel.  
  
"You think of something?" Clark asked.  
  
"Someone," Whitney snapped. He threw the car into gear and it lurched forwards, throwing Chloe into her seat as it took off. She grunted angrily and glared at him, but he hardly seemed to notice. The engine roared to life as he drove the car down the country roads. The car flew around a turn and then another, the wheels kicking up dust clouds behind them.  
  
"Uh, since Clark doesn't count, and Tina's out of it, could I ask you as one of the non-invulnerable people in the car to slow the fuck down?!" Chloe yelled, bracing herself against the dashboard.  
  
"Whitney!" Clark yelled.  
  
"Somebody hand me a phone," Whitney responded. His foot was still pressed down on the accelerator. There was a cell phone resting in a tray on the dashboard. Clark picked it up and handed it to him, but Whitney shrugged it away. "Preferably one not set to a Luthorcorp satellite," he explained. Clark rolled his eyes irritably and put the phone back. Whitney took his eyes off the road long enough to give him an exasperated look. "Don't you have one of your own?"  
  
"Yesterday I fell in a lake and got shot at. And then again, today I got shot at and my home was turned into a war zone. No, I don't have a phone, thank you very much. What about you?"  
  
"I've got three, but I forgot them because I went chasing after someone who decided to put a new doorway in my house and get my girlfriend shot!" Whitney snapped back.  
  
"Here," Chloe said idly, taking a phone out of her back pocket. She sighed and said, "When did I turn into the grown-up here?" Whitney snatched the phone up and began dialing with one hand. She glanced back at Clark and gave him a half-smile. "Better buckle up," she said.  
  
Still angry, he muttered, "I'll be fine."  
  
"Maybe, you would be, but if we take a sharp turn and you go flying out the window, we'd still need to stop and pick you up again." Clark stared at her for a moment and then found a seat and buckled in. She smiled at him and turned back around.  
  
"Hello, you know who this is," Whitney said shortly into the phone. He drove the car around a tight turn, clutching the steering wheel with both hands and then returning the phone to his ear as soon as they were past it. "What? I don't care if it's a bad time, we've had a bad time; you've had nothing!" He fumed and then nodded into the phone as Clark and Chloe stared at him strangely.  
  
"Right, I know," he nodded. "I know! Don't- I know! Look, forget about the risks, we have to meet now. I'm bringing everyone in. You'll see," he snapped into the phone and shut it quickly. Then he glanced at it for a moment and tossed it out the window without a second thought.  
  
"Hey!" Chloe yelled, starting out of her seat, "that was mine!"  
  
"Can't be too careful," Whitney told her. "They could be listening in and trace the call."  
  
"Be paranoid with your own stuff! I had all my numbers in there!" She stared after the phone and then sat back in a huff. "Asshole," she muttered.  
  
"Now who's the adult?" Clark said dryly.  
  
"It's not paranoia if they're really after you," Whitney said grimly. Chloe sniffed and sat back farther in her seat, fuming.  
  
"So who was that?" Clark asked.  
  
"A friend," Whitney explained. "We're going to meet him and a few others who might be able to help us."  
  
"Why would they do that? I mean, we don't seem to be too popular at the moment."  
  
"Only with Luthorcorp, and that's why they'll help. We've worked with them in the past. I mean, Tina and I did," he hesitated. "They hate the 'Corps, they despise the company. After we tell them everything, they'll be falling over each other to help."  
  
"Everything?" Clark asked.  
  
"Everything," Whitney nodded. "They need to know," he said, then he stopped and corrected himself, "well, actually they will know anyways, so it'll be no good hiding it. There's not much that goes in Luthorcorp my friend doesn't know about."  
  
Clark thought about that as they drove. Whitney took them past the winding back roads of Smallville towards town, but then turned east abruptly. They eventually came to a more industrial section. A few cars drove past them on the road, but not many. The area seemed largely abandoned. Rundown factories and warehouses dotted the road on either side. Clark remembered this part of Smallville as lush fields and farms; it was a shock to see it in this state. "What part of town is this?" he asked quietly.  
  
"The bad part," Chloe said quietly. "Nobody comes out here anymore, not even the cops. If you don't want to be found, it's the perfect place to go. As long as the gangs and squatters don't get you, that is."  
  
"Gangs?" Clark stared at her.  
  
She nodded seriously. "It's a dump, but a lot of people don't have anywhere else to go. And like I said, the cops don't come out here; that's bound to attract some types of people, you know?"  
  
"We won't have to worry about that," Whitney told her. "These people know how to look after themselves." He pulled the car into a sharp turn and drove towards an abandoned factory. It was a desolate looking place, surrounded by heaps of piled up scrap metal and car frames. A rusted old barbed wire fence surrounded the lot. Parts of the fence had given way and the strands of sharp metal trailed down to twist in the wind. As they passed the fence, one of the doors on the far side of the lot opened up silently and swiftly. Without hesitating, Whitney drove the opening and just as quietly, the doors closed behind them.  
  
They pulled to a stop and Clark opened the door, stepping out quickly. They were in a large, dimly lit room, but beyond that, it was too dark to make out any details. Chloe hopped out beside him and stared around. "Not too homey, is it?" she commented.  
  
"Grab Tina," Whitney said, climbing out. He pulled open the side door to the car and started to lift her out gently. Chloe turned back to help him.  
  
Clark focused his eyes and stared around with his x-ray vision for a moment. The place seemed to be an old assembly plant. He could see the conveyer belts and machines standing here and there. Everything looked as if it hadn't been used for a long time though. In fact, if it hadn't been for the figures he could see crouched behind some of the machines, he'd have thought the place was abandoned. "There are other people in here," he said quietly.  
  
"I thought that was the point," a voice said behind them. Clark whirled around as a young man stepped out of the shadows. It took a moment for it to sink in, but then Clark realized that it was Pete standing there. It seemed strange, but he wasn't very surprised to see him. After the shock of seeing Lana, he seemed to have gone numb to rediscovering his friends.  
  
Pete had changed. He seemed leaner and slightly more serious than he had in Clark's world, but there was a look of strength about him that Clark had never seen before. Not that Pete had ever struck him as weak, but Clark always remembered him as more happy-go-lucky, fun loving. This Pete didn't look like he'd had that much to smile about in life.  
  
Somewhat more importantly though, Clark noticed, he was carrying a shotgun in his hands, and he looked like he knew how to use it.  
  
"I got the call," Pete said, "so you want to explain why it was necessary to steal a 'Corps' car and drive it all the way here?"  
  
"This good enough for you, Pete?" Whitney said, lifting Tina out of the car. Pete took one look at her and then spun around quickly.  
  
"Lights!" he yelled, and immediately more than a dozen more lights turned on overhead, temporarily blinding Clark. As he blinked quickly, about twenty people appeared from where they'd been hiding and rushed towards them. Some stopped in front of them, uncertainly holding old rifles or bits of pipes. Most of them were young, no more than a few years older than himself. "We need the stretcher over here," Pete called out. A young woman appeared, pushing an old stretcher, its wheels screeching in protest. She had long brown hair flowing out behind her and a mousy looking face.  
  
Whitney lay Tina down on it gently and then stepped back anxiously as the young woman bent over her quickly. Pete stepped up to him, glancing at Clark and Chloe quickly. "What happened?" he asked quietly.  
  
"We went out to the Kent farm, the one I told you about," Whitney explained. "We were just trying to get Clark out when we ran into a bit of trouble: Lionel Luthor himself and half the 'Corps with him."  
  
Pete whistled. "And you'd be Clark, right?" he asked shrewdly. Clark nodded. "Why were you even out there in the first place."  
  
"It's a long story," he said carefully.  
  
"Whatever," Pete said, giving him a look, "I'm still gonna hear it. He glanced at Whitney and then at Tina. "Sarah," he asked, "how does it look?"  
  
The girl glanced back and shrugged wearily. "She's been shot, how do you expect it to look?" she asked, tying her hair back in a quick ponytail. "The bullet's still in her arm, so I'm going to have to dig it out. If you'd gotten me anesthetic, like I'd asked, this would be easier."  
  
"It was either that or food," Pete said grimly.  
  
"Mmm," she shrugged. She bent back over Tina and probed at the wound for a moment. "Too bad we just can't ask them for supplies, instead of having to steal everything," she mumbled. "Well, it's not too deep; I should be able to get it out. It's not going to be pretty though."  
  
"Just take care of it," Pete told her. Sarah shrugged and began to push Tina back to the rear of the building. Whitney started after her, but Pete took his arm and pulled him back. "Better if you don't watch," he told him simply. Whitney looked after Tina and then turned back, looking drained.  
  
"Is she, like, a doctor?" Chloe asked quietly.  
  
Pete glanced at her, amused. "Sarah? No, just the closest thing we have. We stole some pre-med books a while ago; she's the only one who could make heads or tails of them. She's not much on the bed-side manner, but she's gotten pretty good at that sort of thing." He gave her a half-hearted smile. "She's had a lot of practice."  
  
He moved over to Whitney then and put his hand on his shoulder. "Look, why don't you get some rest. You did good, let Sarah take care of her from here."  
  
Whitney pushed away from him, looking at him angrily. "I did good? How? What part of that was good?"  
  
"You got away from the 'Corps with only one person injured," he pointed out. "That seems like pretty good work to me."  
  
Whitney stared at him and then turned away. "You don't know anything," he said bitterly. He walked back to the car and leaned against it, facing away from them. Pete stared after him.  
  
"Something happened he didn't expect," Clark explained quickly. "He just needs some time to think about it."  
  
"Yeah, okay," Pete nodded. "Well, while that's happening, why don't we start with you two?"  
  
"Us?" Clark asked.  
  
"Mostly you though," Chloe commented. She sighed. "You know the worst thing about hanging with you, Clark? On the top ten most wanted, you're like, all of them. I don't get any recognition at all."  
  
"She's right," Pete agreed. "Oh, I want to talk to General Lane's niece all right, but you're something different," he said, staring hard at Clark. "I've never seen them get this worked up over one person. I don't even get this much attention."  
  
"Lucky me," Clark said dryly.  
  
"Look, you got one of my friends shot," Pete remarked, "humor I don't need from you. Answers are more like it."  
  
"That's complicated," he said quickly.  
  
"Well, we've got the time," he smiled. Just then an alarm started to ring in the corner of the building. Pete snapped around, staring at it. "Or maybe we don't," he muttered. He snatched up his gun and ran started to walk quickly towards the door.  
  
"What is it?" Clark asked, following after him. "What's happening?"  
  
"Proximity alarm," Pete said tersely. "We've got spotters outside; they ring that if they see anyone coming." He waved towards the ceiling and immediately someone killed the lights. Everyone melted back into the shadows, hiding once more. Pete walked over to the doors they'd driven in through and stood beside them. Clark followed after him. Someone bumped into him from behind and he turned around, seeing Chloe. She bent over and picked up a length of pipe, hefting it. She saw him looking and smiled quickly, tightening her grip on it. He gave her a reassuring look and turned back.  
  
"It's only one alarm," Pete was explaining, "so it's not a raid. Might just be someone nosing around, or then again, it might not be." He slid a tiny slot on the wall aside and stared through it. Then he shut it quickly and pried back a hidden panel. Flipping something inside it, he stepped back as the doors swung open noiselessly. A car edged in hurriedly, moving forwards almost before the doors were open wide enough to fit it. Surprisingly, it was a sports-car, sleek, powerful, and expensive looking. Its engine hummed loudly as it parked by the LuthorCorp's vehicle. The door creaked open and someone stepped out quickly, staring around.  
  
Pete snapped the switch down, closing the doors, and stepped out, his face mottled with rage. "Are you insane?" he almost screamed. "You took that car here! Why didn't you just send your father a memo about where you were going?"  
  
"With the amount of time I had to get away, I might as well have," the young man snapped. As the lights flicked on, Clark felt his stomach lurch as he saw him. He was wearing a suit that though badly rumpled, looked like it might have been even more expensive than his car. He was lean, with a kind of hard-edged awareness to him. His wavy red hair stood out starkly against his pale skin.  
  
"Did you think it was easy to make up a sudden excuse and get away?" he snapped, staring at Pete. "Especially with what just happened at the farm. He's in a rage, I've never seen him this mad." He glanced around wearily, "I don't know what he's going to do when he asks for me and doesn't." he trailed off, his eyes on Clark.  
  
Clark could only stare back. "Lex?" he asked, stunned.  
  
Lex Luthor seemed frozen for a moment and then snapped his head around to Pete. "You brought it here?!" he yelled. "How on earth did you. God. Where did you find it?"  
  
"Find what?" Pete asked, staring from Clark to Lex. "Wait a minute, what do you mean by 'it'?"  
  
"Lex, I don't believe it," Clark stared. "You've got hair, how did that."  
  
"You speak English?" Lex went pale. "How much do you know about us?" he mumbled. Then he recovered and took a step back, "Are you here for the other one?"  
  
"Other one?" Chloe said, staring at Clark.  
  
"Somebody better start explaining what's going on," Pete snapped, holding up his gun quickly. He looked from Lex to Clark, seemingly unsure of who to aim at.  
  
"He's an alien, Pete," Lex said quickly. "Just like the one that came down fourteen years ago."  
  
"Exactly like, actually," Clark said, recovering. He stared at Lex angrily. "Why is your father so interested in my parent's farm? What's he hiding?"  
  
"Fourteen years ago?" Pete repeated. "Wait, the meteor shower?"  
  
"Pete, shoot him now," Lex said urgently. "He's dangerous, he can't be trusted."  
  
"What about you?" Clark exclaimed. "You're part of this aren't you? In this with your father!"  
  
"Pete!" Lex yelled.  
  
"I'm not shooting anyone until I hear the truth about all this," Pete yelled at him, stepping away. He glared at both Clark and Lex, sizing them both up. He seemed to be unsure on who to start on first.  
  
"You," he said settling on Clark. "He said you're an alien? I didn't hear you deny it."  
  
Clark hesitated, aware of how many people were staring at him, not the least of all, Whitney. "It's true," he finally admitted.  
  
Pete swallowed and glanced at Lex again, and then he looked back at Clark. "It's true," he said quietly to himself. "That's why they're after you? How? How did they find out?"  
  
"You'll have to ask Lex that," Clark said dryly. Lex stared back at him, his face unfathomable.  
  
"Well?" Pete asked after a moment.  
  
Lex sighed and finally said, "Because fourteen years ago, we recovered the first alien to land here."  
  
Dead silence met his response. Clark had been expecting it, but it still sent a nauseas lurch through his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chloe staring at him, looking concerned. Evidently she realized what that meant about his 'other' self in this world.  
  
"What have you been doing with him?" he asked.  
  
Lex regarded him coolly. "Studying him," he replied casually.  
  
"I bet you have," Chloe snarled suddenly. Lex glanced at her and then away, dismissing her.  
  
"Alright," Pete said quickly, now looking at Clark with more alarm. "What are you doing here? You come for this other one?" Lex pricked up his ears in interest as well as everyone else in the room.  
  
"I'm not saying another word until I know why he's here," Clark demanded, pointing at Lex accusingly. He glared at Whitney. "I thought you said these people hated Luthorcorp?"  
  
"I did," he said, still looking bewildered.  
  
"Then what's he doing here?"  
  
"Because if you measured out drop for drop every bit of hate for my father in this room," Lex said quietly, "mine would be an ocean."  
  
"I called him Clark," Whitney said. "On the phone before, remember? He's the one who set this place up, with Pete. He's been helping us for a long time. Who do you think got me my computers?" he added. Clark could only stare at him, his mind tripping over the phrase; he's been helping us.  
  
"Lex's loyalties aren't in question here," Pete spoke up suddenly, and then gave Lex a sharp look. "His truthfulness about certain things is another matter."  
  
"I only told you what was necessary," Lex started to say, but Pete cut him off with a gesture. He stared thoughtfully at Clark and then looked over at Whitney. He still seemed to be shaken by what he'd heard.  
  
"Whitney, you've been helping them, right?" Pete asked. Whitney jumped out of his reverie and stammered for a bit before nodding. "Do you trust them?" Pete asked.  
  
"Pete, you can't be thinking." Lex exploded, but Pete glared at him forcefully until Lex snarled, retreating. Clark was a little stunned at that, he'd never know Lex to back down from anyone before, especially not Pete.  
  
Whitney hesitated, glancing at Clark furtively. Then he quiet voice, he said, "I don't know. I don't know what to think. First Tina and now this," he mumbled. "I just don't know."  
  
"Well that's great," Chloe said dryly. Clark hissed at her to be quiet, but she rolled her eyes and walked back to the car. She leaned against it idly and waited, watching them. "So now what?" she asked.  
  
"I was kinda wondering the same thing," Pete replied, staring at Clark intently.  
  
Lex came up behind him and whispered close to him. "We have to get him out of here now. He's nothing but a danger to us. If my father finds him."  
  
"How's he going to do that, Lex," Clark asked, "unless you tell him?" Lex's face went dark with rage as he stared at him.  
  
"And I'm sure Papa Luthor would love to hear about this place then," Chloe remarked, smirking. "And about your little affiliation with it." She laughed. "I guess it's in your best interests then that we don't get caught, isn't it?"  
  
"He'd never believe you," Lex said, going pale.  
  
"I don't think it's a chance you can take, is it?" Clark asked.  
  
Lex stared at him blankly for a moment, seemingly in serious thought. Then finally he grimaced and looked away. "He's right," he said shortly.  
  
"We don't really have to 'let' them leave you know," Pete commented, raising his gun slightly. All around them, the others did the same, staring threateningly at Clark and Chloe.  
  
Clark raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lex. "Do you want to tell him now or wait until he tries to shoot me and let him figure it out for himself?"  
  
"Put the gun away, Whitney," Lex said wearily. "We don't have anything here that could hurt him."  
  
"But you said before," Pete started.  
  
"I know what I said," Lex snapped, "I wasn't thinking! Just put it away."  
  
Pete lowered his gun slowly as did everyone else. "So we're just going to let them stay then? With all of the 'Corps tearing the town apart to find them? Not to mention the fact that one of them's from outer space."  
  
"I don't see how we have any other choice," Lex sighed. "They'd be safer here than out there. And maybe we can keep him from causing any more chaos in the meantime," he finished snidely. He started to walk away when Clark called after him.  
  
"You still have some explaining to do," he said. Lex stopped and stared back at him testily. "What happened here fourteen years ago? With your father and the meteor shower?"  
  
"Wouldn't you know better than anyone else?" he asked. Clark took a step back quickly, stunned, but Lex went on. "It was one of your ships after all."  
  
"It was the only ship," Clark replied. Lex blinked and stared back at him.  
  
"I think I'd like to hear about this too," Pete spoke up. Chloe and Whitney looked up as well.  
  
Lex glanced around at them and then nodded finally. "I suppose there's no way around it," he said. Then he fixed Clark with a firm look. "But only if you tell us what you're doing here. Why now after fourteen years?"  
  
"I'm not too sure of it myself," Clark admitted, "but I'll tell you what I can. You just have to believe me," he sighed. 


	21. A brief history lesson

Chapter 20  
  
"Fourteen ago, my father was nothing more than a moderately successful businessman," Lex started quietly. His voice was bitter and sardonic, but Clark could hear the tight control in it. For a moment, he could forget about how different Lex looked, and he remembered his friend, who was never one to reveal what he was really feeling.  
  
"My father had companies all over the country, contracts world-wide, and politicians in his pocket," Lex listed casually, "but he was nothing special yet. There were worse than him. All that changed the day he arrived in Smallville to buy up the land for his newest factory."  
  
Lex had lead Pete, Clark, Chloe, and Whitney into an unoccupied room at the side of the factory that seemed to have been converted into a command center. Street maps and blueprints were scattered over a desk in the center of the room. Lex had chosen a spot at the head of the table, his hands folded on the desk, speaking slowly and clearly to them. Whitney was hunched over the desk, staring blankly into one of the plans as he listened. Chloe sat backwards in an old office chair, hanging over the back. Pete was leaning against the wall, watching them. Clark stood alone, staring at Lex as he went on.  
  
"My father had his eye on an old factory on the outskirts of town," Lex said, glancing at Pete. "Maybe you remember it?"  
  
"How could I forget?" he breathed out. "Ross Cream Corn. God, I don't think that place had made a profit in twenty years, but my dad still wasn't going to sell it."  
  
"Not that day at least," Lex shrugged. "My father brought me along for the deal. I think he wanted to impress upon me just how he worked. All I remember though was being bored," he laughed. "I wandered out into the fields by the factory and came across-"  
  
"A Smallville Scarecrow," Clark finished quietly. He remembered hearing this before.  
  
"The football team still does that," Chloe spoke up, "but nowadays they don't wait for a game, they just do it whenever they're bored."  
  
Lex had been staring at Clark in astonishment. "How do you know about that?"  
  
"Because you told me two years ago," he said. Lex blinked, his eyes widening. "Go on," Clark told him. "That was when the meteor shower started."  
  
"Yes." Lex recovered slowly. "I heard them first. It was a whistling sound, like something you'd expect to hear in a cartoon. The sound just kept getting louder, becoming a roar. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from until the first of the meteors broke through the clouds overhead. It flew past the factory and crashed about a quarter mile away. I think I was too frightened to run away, I just stared at where it had landed until I realized that I was still hearing that roaring sound. Then one after another, more started to fall, till it looked like the entire sky was bleeding." Pete and Whitney nodded silently, each of them caught up in their own memories of that day.  
  
"I probably would've just waited there to die until something happened to shake me up," Lex smirked. "I was too terrified to run. Then a meteor came hurtling through the air straight overhead. I think it would've passed right over me, but before it could reach the field, it collided in mid-air with another fragment. The explosion was. louder than anything I'd ever heard. Bits and pieces were scattered from the explosion, reigning down all over the field. One of them struck the 'Scarecrow' as you called him, and turned him into a torch. I ran screaming; hearing him scream behind me; hearing the sky scream overhead," he passed a hand over his face wearily.  
  
"When I ran out of the fields, everyone had left the factory by then, trying to find some shelter I imagine. But not my father," he said quietly. His voice lost it's bitter tone and he seemed generally puzzled. "Out of nowhere, he picked me up and carried me inside that same factory we'd come here to buy and we waited, clutching each other. I don't think I'd ever been more terrified in my life. I doubt he was any different. But I remember he held me close and tried to comfort me." He let out a breath, eyebrows knotted together in confusion for a moment. Then he shook his head and continued in that same bitter, sardonic tone. "He tried I think. He kept mumbling something over and over again, but I don't remember what it was. Still, it was the closest he ever got to being a real father to me. I think it says something that it took an almost biblical event to make him act like a father, no matter how briefly."  
  
"So your dad wasn't father of the year," Chloe said quietly. "This is news? I mean, we know who he is, somehow I doubt anyone was thinking he'd act any different to family."  
  
"I just wanted to prove that I've got as much, or more, reason to hate my father as much as anyone else here," Lex told her. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Pete. "I need everyone here to know where my loyalties are." Pete looked at him and didn't say anything.  
  
"Anyway," Lex went on after a moment, "when the meteor shower was over, my father found a ride to the hospital. Neither one of us was seriously injured, but I think we were both in shock. The hospital was overcrowded, as you can imagine; the dead and injured lying everywhere with more coming in every minute. But my father was still my father, and managed to get a room for me and a doctor to look at us both. He was just finishing examining me when an aide of my father's ran into the room."  
  
His face tightened together into an expression that was almost, but not quite a grin. "I'm not sure how he found us in all that chaos, but he did. He said he had incredible news," he laughed.  
  
"Aliens had landed," Chloe said dryly.  
  
"How though?" Pete asked. "How was it possible?"  
  
"It is a little unbelievable," Whitney said quietly. In spite of himself, Clark laughed a little. They all looked at him and he felt himself going red. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's just I've spent most of my life thinking the same thing."  
  
"Why Smallville?" Lex asked suddenly. Clark looked at him and shrugged.  
  
"I honestly don't know. It's where the ship was programmed to land."  
  
"But why? Who programmed it?"  
  
Clark spread his hands helplessly. "I wish I knew," he said truthfully. "My parents maybe, who knows. Whoever did it only left me a ship and bunch of questions."  
  
Lex sprang up from his seat, going pale. His hands pressed down tensely on the table top. "You have a ship? A functional ship?"  
  
"Yes," Clark said slowly.  
  
"Take me to it. The ship we recovered was broken, useless. We could never even get part of it open to examine it. If yours is functional, we could learn so much."  
  
"Or your father could learn so much," Chloe pointed out.  
  
Lex stared at her and then sank back down into his seat. "She's right, of course," he said quietly. "I could never take a look at it without him finding out. It's just." he trailed off. "An actual alien piece of technology. My father built an empire on a fried piece of debris; you can imagine what I could do with a functioning one." He smiled bitterly. "You'll have to forgive that little outburst; that was the Luthor in me talking. As much as I'd like to deny it, I am my father's son." He seemed to sink his seat, brooding over it quietly.  
  
"How many of you are there?" Whitney spoke up. "I mean, is this like an invasion or something?"  
  
Clark stared at him strangely. "A what?" he almost laughed.  
  
"Look at it from our perspective," Pete told him, not amused.  
  
"No, it's not an invasion," Clark assured them, his smile quickly dying. "I don't know of any others like me. I don't even know why I was sent here. My ship is functioning sure, but lets just say that its owner's manual isn't exactly written in English." He stared at them, suddenly feeling all the loneliness and isolation he'd experienced growing up different. The fear of using his powers, the fear of being found out and taken away from his parents. "I don't remember anything about where I come from," he said quietly. "Who knows, maybe I was sent here to invade, but that doesn't matter. This is my home now, Smallville. I was raised here," he said, and Lex looked up sharply, "I'm not looking to destroy it."  
  
"When did your ship land?" Lex asked him intently.  
  
"Fourteen years ago, the day of the meteor shower."  
  
Lex sat back, stunned. "There were two ships?"  
  
"No, there was just one, mine." He stared around at them, and then went on quickly, trying to get through it as quickly as possible. "My ship landed during the meteor shower. I have to guess there was some connection between the two, but there's no way of knowing. My parents, the Kents, found me in a field near the ship. They'd never had a child of their own, so they decided to take me in. They adopted me, raised me as their own, and tried to give me as much of a normal life as they could. It wasn't easy keeping my powers a secret, but we've managed pretty well. Only one other person knows so far." He shrugged a bit and glanced at Pete. "That would be you." Pete jumped, his eyes wide.  
  
"That's not what happened," Lex choked out suddenly. He glared at Clark, swallowing. "You're lying."  
  
"I'm not," Clark shook his head. "It all happened, I remember it, but for some reason, none of it's the same here. And I don't know why!" he said, getting agitated. He turned around, staring at the wall for a moment. Then he turned back to them, shaking his head. "Yesterday, I was walking home from school and. something happened. I was pulled here, and I don't know why or how. It all happened so quickly. One minute I was in the middle of a storm and the next, here I am. Sun is shining, lakes are where I don't remember them, and Luthorcorp has taken over."  
  
There was dead silence for a moment as Pete, Whitney, and Lex all stared at him. Then Chloe broke through it by saying, "Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too when this guy came out of nowhere and told me we were best friends even though I'd never seen him before in my life."  
  
"Did you believe him?" Pete asked weakly, looking from Clark to her.  
  
"Would you at first?"  
  
"What you're describing sounds like parallel worlds," Lex said slowly. He slumped back in his chair, looking blankly at the ceiling. Then he looked up sharply at Clark. "Can you prove it though?"  
  
"When the soldiers came for me in the town," Clark said, thinking, "it was because someone spotted me, right? Because I look just like the person you have locked up, the other me?"  
  
Lex frowned. "There are some differences," he said tersely.  
  
"Ooh, the picture," Chloe spoke up. "Show them the picture," she said to him. "Worked with me."  
  
"A picture convinced you of all this?" Pete asked as Clark dug his wallet out.  
  
"Well that and just after he showed me it the 'Corps came out of nowhere and started shooting at us," she remarked. Then her grin faded and she looked away. "And I know liars. Clark's not."  
  
Clark held up the picture in his hands, half-listening to Chloe. It seemed so long ago that he'd gotten this, even though it only been the other day. They'd been in school and Lana had. He suddenly started as he realized that Lana was in the picture. She was part of LuthorCorps in this world; of course Lex would know her. He looked up from the photo and saw them all waiting for him. He hesitated and then finally handed it to Pete, figuring that he didn't have any choice in it.  
  
Pete took the photo and then almost dropped it as he got a look at it. "That's me!" he said, jerking his head up to look at Clark. Clark nodded, but Pete didn't see him, he was too engrossed in studying the picture. Whitney stood up, craning over Pete's shoulder to see it. Lex remained seated, hardly taking his eyes off Clark.  
  
"It's funny," Chloe said, looking at the picture. "I think I look better here than in the photo, but you don't," she told Pete. "Clark's you looks like more fun."  
  
Pete flushed and leaned back in his seat. "I don't have a lot of fun these days."  
  
Lex leaned forwards and picked the picture up at last. He studied it for a moment, his expression a mystery. Then he looked up at Clark and flicked the picture around so it faced him. "Who's this girl?" he asked, tapping the photo.  
  
"Lana Lang," he said quietly. Pete started, staring at the picture again. "I'll be dammed," he said quietly. "I didn't even recognize her."  
  
"That's probably because she's smiling," Lex said dryly to him. Then he looked back at Clark and tilted his head, regarding him again. "Is she a friend of yours?" he asked. Clark nodded glumly. "Are you close?" Lex asked in that same innocent tone. Clark sighed and nodded again. Lex seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he started to laugh. The photo slipped out of his fingers as he leaned back, practically holding his sides. He was laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. "I don't think it's very funny," Clark said testily.  
  
"I don't think I get the joke," Chloe remarked as well, frowning at Lex.  
  
Eventually, Lex managed to get himself under control. "Sorry, sorry," he said, gasping for air. He smirked at Clark, wiping away tears in his eyes. "You know, I'm not one to believe in a God, but something with a sense of humor had to have planned this." Clark looked away, his hand rubbing his shoulder where Lana had shot him. Lex caught the movement and smiled at it. "I see you two have already met."  
  
"So who is this girl already?" Chloe asked angrily. Then she seemed to catch herself and shrugged it off like it wasn't important. "I mean, what's the big joke?"  
  
"In a minute," Lex said, still smiling. "I think I should finish with my story first. Lana's a part of it after all, and I think it's something we all need to hear," he said, his eyes on Clark. "Now where was I?"  
  
"My ship just landed," Clark told him. "What did you do with me. I mean, him."  
  
"Well to be completely honest, no one knew what you were at first," Lex smiled. "This was 1987, it could've been the Russians for all we could guess. The only things we knew were that was a busted spaceship that had plowed a furrow ten feet below mainstreet and one very shaken little passenger. Even looking at him didn't give us any hints." He pointed at Clark. "As you can see, they're almost identical to us."  
  
"The ship landed in town?" Clark asked weakly.  
  
Lex smiled and nodded. "In front of close to twenty witnesses," he said. "I think it was also in front of one of my father's building, thought I'm not sure about that. It wasn't exactly a text book landing. Anyway, my father claimed you'd landed on his property and confiscated you." He laughed again. "You were Luthorcorp property from day one." It was all Clark could to do to keep from retching. All his life he'd been afraid of being exposed, but here there'd been no chance for his 'other' self.  
  
"Hold on," Whitney spoke up suddenly. He stared at Lex and asked, "If there were that many witnesses, how come we've never heard about any of this. People would have talked."  
  
"Because when my father's people took one look at what was left of that ship, and realized just how 'foreign' our visitor was, my father made very certain that there wouldn't be any witnesses left to talk," he said grimly. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Ten of the witnesses had been injured that day, they all, sadly, succumbed to their minor bumps and bruises within a few weeks time. The town had already had a national catastrophe; who was going to notice a few extra corpses? Five of the witnesses worked for my father anyways, so he could easily arrange for them to be transferred to more secure locations, to be silenced or paid off later based on how corruptible they were. Seven people in town my father bought outright. Of course," he said, "it didn't matter if they took the money, within two years time, they had all mysteriously died."  
  
"That's the Lionel Luthor I know," Pete said savagely.  
  
"You know an awful lot about this," Clark remarked to Lex.  
  
Lex waved the comment away. "I've had a life-time to study up on my father and his secrets. Besides, its interesting reading."  
  
Chloe seemed to be struggling to with something. "So he killed everyone who knew about it? I mean, everyone who was there to see it come down?"  
  
"Not everyone," Lex allowed. "There was one other witness he left alive, two if you count me."  
  
"But you're his."  
  
"And what would he do if he knew what I was doing right now?" he asked her. "Some secrets are more important than blood in his eyes." She blinked and sat back in her seat.  
  
"Who'd he leave?" Pete asked.  
  
"A girl," Lex shrugged. "She was about four years old. I think he let her live because she was practically catatonic when they brought her in. She'd seen her own parents die during the meteor shower. It was a bit too much for her, she went into shock and the doctors weren't very hopeful that she'd ever come out of it. Maybe my father spied a humanity story in her, but he did seem to take pity on her. She didn't seem to have any relatives who wanted her, so he took her in, got her the best doctors he could find and slowly brought her back. Of course after that, my father did everything he could to shape her into a Luthor." He laughed bitterly. "I think he'd already been convinced that I'd never be anything more than a disappointment to him by then. Lord knows I'd been trying."  
  
"Wait a minute," Pete spoke up. "If he took her in, that would make her."  
  
"The esteemed head of LuthorCorps herself," Lex laughed.  
  
"Lana," Clark said quietly. Now he really felt sick. He had to brace himself against the table just to keep himself upright. Lana had been raised by Lionel Luthor? It was impossible, but he'd seen her for himself just a few hours ago. "She hates me," he said weakly.  
  
"Yes," Lex agreed, no longer smiling. Something like sympathy was on his face. "Her parents were killed in the meteor shower. Rather than help her deal with the loss, my father's chosen to keep that hate alive, even stoking the fires from time to time. In his mind it makes her better warden."  
  
"Warden?" Pete asked. "She's the one in charge of it, I mean, him?" he corrected himself, looking at Clark.  
  
"Until recently," he said, looking at Clark as well. "She's in charge of something else now."  
  
"Hunting me down?" Clark demanded, staring up at him.  
  
"No, that was just an accident. No one thought you'd come to the farm."  
  
"Why?" Clark gripped the side of the table, the wood starting to splinter around his fingers. "Why is my parent's farm so important?" Lex didn't answer, just sat there staring at him blankly. Chloe climbed out of her seat and backed away quickly. Whitney stared at Clark, unable to move. "Why!?" Clark shouted at Lex. "What are you hiding from me?" In rage, he picked up the table and threw it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Pete jumped forward, as if to subdue him, but then seemed to realize just how fruitless that would be. Whitney fell of his chair, scrambling away from Clark. Only Lex seemed to be unconcerned. He returned Clark's enraged look with a cool one.  
  
"I lied to you before," he finally remarked. He picked a splinter of wood from his pants and tossed it aside, unhurried. "I lied when I said that my father's business was built on you and your ship. In truth, it's been built on her," he said, catching Clark's eye as he emphasized the last word.  
  
"The day of the meteor shower, there was an accident. That sounds redundant, but you have to realize the scale of this; all the people who died, all the destruction, better that, better ten times than that, against that accident." He shook his head forcefully. "It should've never happened. No one should be given that much power," he swore.  
  
Clark stared at him, his anger falling away and leaving only a cold sense of dread in him. "What happened?"  
  
"A couple was driving home from town the day when the meteor shower caught them," he told Clark slowly. "They were trapped on the road, no shelter in sight. They tried to make it to safety, but a fragment smashed down near their car. The shockwave destroyed the car, killed the man, and crippled the woman. If that had been all it had done to her, it would have been a mercy. Search parties eventually found her and she was taken to the triage center set up at the hospital. The same hospital my father and I were at. Her body was twisted, she was raving; doctors thought it was from the pain. It wasn't until someone actually bothered to listen to her that they realized they were wrong. Well, partly wrong," he allowed. "It wasn't physical pain, it was mental."  
  
"Her mind was. being overwhelmed by everything happening around her. She could literally feel all the hurt and death of everyone in that hospital. What's more she could feel everyone else outside of that." He shuddered for a moment and then went on. "It wasn't telepathy; it was more like all the walls in the world had fallen away for her. She could see everything, everyone. You could tell her a name, and she could tell you what that person had for breakfast this morning, every morning since the day they were born. It was like she was omniscient. She could even tell you what someone was going to do with a frightening degree of accuracy."  
  
"She knows everything?" Pete asked, aghast. "Then she'd know about you and me, God, she could ruin everything."  
  
"Yes she could," Lex told him with a haunted look in his eyes. "If my father ever asked her," he snapped his fingers suddenly, "it would be over just like that." He laughed weakly. "Now you can see the sword I've lived under for the last year."  
  
"What happened to her?" Chloe asked Lex in a whisper, her eyes on Clark. He could only stand there, staring blankly ahead, a tiny part of him listening to Lex, the rest of his mind was shuddering back in sick horror. He remembered the voice in his head, the hands that had cradled him so gently on the farm, the warmth that had seemed so, so familiar.  
  
"My father took her out of the hospital and built a lab to hold her, and you," he added, nodding at Clark. "He calls her his Oracle," he said bitterly. "His own private crystal ball. That's how my father became so powerful. With the kind of information she can give him, there's no limit to what he can do. He could rule this world if he wanted. Perhaps he already does."  
  
"Why are you telling us this now?" Pete asked, still shaken.  
  
"I kept you in the dark because frankly, ignorance is bliss. There's nothing we could've done about her anyways. She's too well guarded." He looked at Clark for a moment, and his expression saddened momentarily. "And besides, listening to your story, it seems clear to me that it was just an accident that made her. Something was supposed to land near her and husband that day, but it wasn't supposed to be a meteor rock."  
  
Clark looked up at him blankly. The warmth, the familiarity in that touch. How could he have forgotten?  
  
"The woman," Lex said, "the Oracle, her name was Martha Kent." 


	22. Fear and Confusion

Chapter 21  
  
Lionel Luthor paused outside the door to his study and mentally braced himself for a moment. He'd just finished an exhaustive meeting with the heads of his munitions plants overseas and before that had been forced to renegotiate a contract with Queen Shipping. He hadn't planned on either; both had sprung up unexpectedly and had to be taken care of immediately. The plant managers had been using cheaper materials to boost their profits at the cost of quality. Lionel wasn't averse to such practices per say, but a certain level of quality had to be maintained. Even worse had been Queen, that damn, arrogant upstart, trying to insert a clause in the contract at the last minute to force Luthorcorp to pay premium costs when they shipped over a certain level. Their discussion had ended in a shouting match and it would probably be weeks before they could go back to the table.  
  
His head pounded, not from his exhaustion or the argument, but from the sheer, irritating pettiness of it all. It was galling that in the midst of a crisis of this magnitude, he was forced to waste his time disciplining his aides and negotiating rates. He would have gladly passed such trivial things onto Lex, but of course, his son had chosen the most inopportune time to make himself scarce. He'd only left a garbled message to explain his absence, something about a girl and a paternity suit. So much for hoping the boy had finally learned a bit of responsibility and restraint, he thought bitterly. At this rate, Lex would be as bad as that Wayne boy in Gotham.  
  
Still, Lionel felt troubled by the meetings. Years ago, he realized, before She came into his life, he would have recognized the signs that such trouble was brewing and headed them off quickly. If you couldn't think twelve moves ahead of your opponent, the only place for you was as a stepping stone in the world of business. Had he become too dependent on her abilities over the years? It raised some concerns certainly. With her otherwise distracted by this mess with the second alien, he was without her guidance at the moment. Was this a vulnerability? He resolved in the future to pay closer attention when he could to other matters and not let such things happen again.  
  
Running a hand through his wild hair, he straightened and sighed. There was no longer any putting this off. Taking a breath, he opened the door quietly and stepped inside, listening to the door swing shut behind him. A young man looked up at him from where he had been examining the books against the wall. He was dressed in slacks and a tweed jacket, looking every inch the professor. To call him slim would have been a gross understatement, skeletal came closer to the truth. He looked like he had been made out sticks, like some puppet or scarecrow, all bony points and angles. The skin on his face was stretched out over his cheek bones, making the hollows of his cheeks look like deep gashes. His sandy blond hair looked to have the consistency of straw.  
  
"Ahh, Dr. Crane," Lionel said jovially, not meaning it for a second, "so glad you could make it on such short notice."  
  
Jonathon Crane favored him with a too-large smile, the sort of things you only saw on sharks or other predators. For a moment, Lionel wondered what the doctor's patients thought when they saw that smile. "Well I do have your jet to thank for that," Crane responded, nodding at him deferentially. His voice was sing-song and educated, but slightly mocking at the same time. There was also an undercurrent to it that always set Lionel's teeth on edge, like knives scraped across a blackboard. "It's a lovely plane by the way, and I enjoyed talking to your pilots. I love pilots, they face so many fears everyday; fear of heights, of equipment malfunction, of storms, of killing their passengers, of being killed by their passengers... It's a wonder they're able to cope with it all."  
  
"It's always good to hear your unique viewpoints," Lionel remarked dryly. "I was afraid life away from Gotham University might have dulled you. I heard you were working at a psychiatric ward now."  
  
Crane snickered, looking around the office again. "Oh Arkham's not a psychiatric ward," he said quietly. "People go to a hospital to be healed. People are sent to Arkham for something quite different." Lionel raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Crane was regarding his books again, running one finger up and down the rows set against the wall. "You changed your study from the last time I was here," he commented. "There were fewer books." He seemed to consider this for a moment. "And if I remember, you'd changed it then as well, from the first time I'd been in it. I'm not sure if there is a fear of not changing, of stagnation. I'll have to give that some thought," he murmured. Then he inclined his head and spun around quickly. Lionel was again startled with the sheer vitality in his movements. Despite looking like he'd weigh ninety pounds soaking wet, the energy in his movements was frightening.  
  
"But what I am saying?" he chided himself. "You didn't set that wonderful jet for me so that we could discuss your redecorating habits. No, this must be about my star patient. How is Lana doing?" he asked brightly. "It's been years since I've seen her. You never let me keep in contact with the poor girl," he scolded Lionel, "and a doctor has a right to check up on his patients after all."  
  
"She's not your patient, doctor," Lionel said quietly. "I've seen your patients. But yes, this is about Lana. You have some explaining to do." Crane looked at him for a moment and then grunted irritably and sat down on the rich leather sofa in the corner. He took out a pair of thin glasses and began to polish them carefully, avoiding Lionel's eye.  
  
"I was rather expecting this was going to happen," he said, a touch of indignation in his voice. "It was all in my report, there's no use pulling me away from my experiments about it now."  
  
"Today Lana came close to costing me a great deal," Lionel remarked. Crane sniffed and went on polishing his glasses. "What's more distressing is that she came within a hairs-width of disobeying my orders."  
  
"And let me guess," Crane supplied, "you've started to notice a decline in her work as well?"  
  
"Yes, yes," he said, glaring at the doctor. "Well? Care to explain it?"  
  
Crane shrugged like it wasn't his concern. "I did warn you this would happen."  
  
Lionel's control started to slip. "You promised me you could produce what I wanted!" he raged. "A perfect guard! Someone I could trust with this! And now you expect to sit here and tell me you 'expected this to happen?'" If Crane was frightened he didn't show it. On the contrary, there was a certain degree of professional curiosity in his face now as he watched Lionel.  
  
"Hmm," he said clinically. "You don't take disappointment well, do you? I figured that with your son, you'd be used to it by now."  
  
"Doctor," Lionel warned, his teeth grating together.  
  
"Oh very well," he exclaimed. He put away his glasses and gave Lionel a serious look. "I am artist, Mr. Luthor; one that sculpts, yes, but I don't work with stone. The psyche continuously grows, and it has been three years since my last session with Lana. She will have changed a bit in that time. Some of her tighter programming will have naturally started to fray."  
  
"It was a difficult thing you wanted me to do after all," he explained, getting up to walk around the room. "The girl was practically a vegetable when you handed her over. Bringing her back from that took time and no small amount of skill if I may say. Installing you as her father figure wasn't particularly difficult, but removing certain natural restrictions on her, well." he hesitated. "Despite what you may have heard, it's not that easy to reprogram a child. It's much easier when they're over a certain age. You need a well defined ego to break I think, just so you can be certain when you've completely done it. Now if I'd had her from birth I could've given you exactly what you wanted, a remorseless, perfect machine."  
  
"You know that's not what I want for her," Lionel warned him quietly. Crane spread his hands apologetically.  
  
"I certainly don't remember hearing any complaints three years ago," he remarked, eyeing Lionel wickedly. "She wasn't the confused, frightened little girl any more, I'd taken care of that."  
  
"If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?" Lionel pointed out.  
  
Crane frowned and then shrugged. "Point." He hesitated, thinking for a moment and then said, "Well, I suppose I can take another look at her then. It has been three years, and she is one of my better works, after all." He laughed suddenly. "You could consider it like professional courtesy: like she's still under warranty." He laughed at his joke for a moment.  
  
Lionel didn't join in. "How long will it take?"  
  
"Give me a few months with her and she'll-"  
  
"I don't have a few months!" Lionel snapped, his fist crashing down against his desk. "I'll be lucky if I have a few days! I need her in control now!"  
  
"Psychology isn't an immediate science," Crane remarked lightly. "Lana is rather susceptible to my suggestions, but no one's that malleable."  
  
"Can't you do anything to speed it up?"  
  
"I could always pump her full of drugs," Crane snapped irritably. "She'd do anything you told her to, yes, but she'd be lucky to come out of it knowing her own name."  
  
"Of course, she's older now," he remarked, thinking of something. "Certain techniques will have more effect. And if you could be persuaded to allow certain. other techniques we discussed the last time, I could definitely speed up the process." A dreadful sort of light was in his eyes as he toyed with the idea. "I haven't had many chances to experiment with that, you know. University officials tend to be rather nosy and the Arkham staff is almost as bad. But with private sessions, I think I could get you the results you need." He smiled that too big grin and waited.  
  
"One of these days, Doctor," Lionel said slowly, "someone is going to put you in a cell right beside your patients."  
  
Crane sniffed, amused, and turned back to Lionel. "I enjoy my work," he commented.  
  
Lionel stared at him for a moment, the silence weighing heavily. Finally Crane went on in a much more even tone. "I've given Lana certain. medication to take in case she started to become confused again. As long as she follows my directions, she should be able to handle whatever you need to her. After that, when we have the leisure of time, I can give her back to you anyway you please."  
  
"Are you sure she'll be able to handle this?"  
  
"Well I don't know the situation," he remarked lightly, "but I do know my patient. I did make you one dangerous young woman after all."  
  
Lionel considered that, strumming his hands on the desk lightly. "Afterwards, you're sure you can help her?" he asked after a moment.  
  
Crane nodded, smiling in a way that Lionel found in no way reassuring. "I've perfected a few new techniques in the last three years. And I've already laid the frame work, haven't I? In a few months time, she won't even remember feeling a moment's doubt."  
  
"Good," Lionel said tersely. He leaned back, rubbing his temples. "Perhaps its better she didn't remember any of this," he mused. "When this is over, I was thinking of reassigning her, and as she is now, she'd resent it. Yes, have her forget everything," he decided. "Her parents, the alien, everything."  
  
"There won't be much left of her then," Crane commented.  
  
"That's the point," Lionel told him. "She'll be working closely with me, and she doesn't need to be troubled by all those bad memories in the future." He glanced at his watch and then looked up at Crane pointedly. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this short now. It's been a rather long day."  
  
"It's your time and you're plane," the professor smiled. "Ah. We can discuss payment next time?" he asked somewhat intently.  
  
"Of course, doctor." He stood up and winced, feeling the muscles in his back twinge. Rubbing it, he looked at Crane. "I'll have someone escort you out in a moment. If you'll excuse me." Crane nodded and Lionel left the room quickly, his feigned good temper falling away as he left the room.  
  
Crane might have been the one of the most skilled psychiatrist and behavioral scientist in America, but sometimes Lionel wasn't sure the doctor was any saner than his patients. The only reason he had ever put up with his dangerous habits was that he did get results, and could be trusted to remain silent about certain things. Not that Crane was particularly trustworthy, Lionel thought. It was just that the doctor had enough dirty secrets of his own to be able to appreciate the benefits of mutual silence.  
  
But Crane was a separate problem, and not in the least bit important at the moment. What was important was capturing the second alien, and for that he needed Lana in complete control. He cursed Lex again for leaving so suddenly. Just when he seemed to be turning around, he pulls this, he raged. Without Lex here, he had been too busy to check up on Lana until now. He worried for a moment, thinking back to the farm. She'd been unusually quiet after the alien and the others had escaped. He had expected her to be in a rage, or ashamed; to show some emotion at least. But she'd just sat like a statue the entire ride back, staring blankly ahead. When he'd ordered her to her room, to wait for him, she'd hardly seemed to respond at all. For a moment, he'd almost thought she'd regressed back to the way she'd first been, all those years ago before he'd given her to Crane. She'd been so distant then, only very rarely aware of what was going on around her.  
  
He frowned, thinking for a moment. She had been putting herself under a great deal of pressure to capture the alien. Perhaps the shock of a second failure had caused her to revert. Lionel started to walk faster. The last thing he needed was for Lana to have some sort of emotional breakdown at the moment. He cursed her under his breath and hurried on.  
  
Finally, past the barracks halls for the LuthorCorps soldiers, Lionel arrived at Lana's door. Pausing at the doorway, he straightened his jacket and then knocked on the door lightly. "Lana," he said quietly. There was no answer. "Lana, open the door." Still there was no answer.  
  
Thinking perhaps a different tact was needed, his lowered his voice to a more gentle tone. "Lana, I'm not upset with you. Today was not your fault. There was no way of knowing he would be there. I don't blame you at all, do you understand? Lana?" He reached down and tried the handle but it wouldn't budge. The tiny light above the handle winked red at him. Angrily, he reached over and punched in a quick code into the keypad by the door. All of the doors in the lab had electronic locks, but only a few people knew the master codes for the system. The lock clicked off and he swung the door open.  
  
Lana's room was small, hardly more than a dormitory, but it wasn't cluttered, on the contrary, it was practically empty. There was a neat bed in the corner, its sheets folded crisply, a worn old rug that covered most of the concrete floor, a dresser with a single picture standing up on it, and a full length mirror set in the wall; there was nothing else in the room, including Lana. Lionel stepped inside, glancing around quickly, but it was pointless. It wasn't like there were many places she could hide in here. Lana was gone. 


	23. A New Start

Chapter 22  
  
Chloe woke up suddenly as someone clicked on the light over her. She pulled herself halfway up for a moment, and then moaned and fell back, squeezing her eyes closed. The light was stabbing painfully through her eyelids, making her wince. "It can't be morning yet," she muttered, flopping around on the cot.  
  
"Technically it is," someone said behind her. She grunted and rolled over, peering out of one eyelid. Whitney was sitting on the other cot, staring at her. When he saw her looking, he gave her a tiny grin. "Sorry about waking you up like that," he said, "I just figured you'd want something to eat now. Seeing as you didn't have anything at all last night."  
  
Chloe only vaguely remembered the end of last night. Clark and Lex had kept talking throughout the meeting, each asking the other questions about what had happened during the last fourteen years, what was different about each different version of Smallville. It had been interesting, but also a little frightening to hear about how things could have turned out so differently. The two of them had gone on for hours, and at the end, Chloe's head was swimming. They'd given her and Clark this tiny room at the side of the factory and two cots to sleep on. It seemed that she'd fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow.  
  
"You woke me up for breakfast?" she grumbled, drawing her blanket more tightly around herself.  
  
"Dinner actually. We're kind of nocturnal around here," he explained. "We have to be; it's easier to move around at night. Only a few people are up during the day, and they don't cook."  
  
Chloe yawned and opened her eyes a little wider. "What's on the menu?" she mumbled, her brain still foggy.  
  
"Cold, runny eggs and some bacon," he told her. "All stolen fresh from your friendly neighborhood Luthormart. And your choice of instant coffee, also stolen. Oh and word of advice: don't have the bacon. Luthormarts tend to ignore those 'sell by dates' on a lot of things."  
  
"As long as it's not green," she mumbled, still wrapped up in blankets.  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if they were," he said dryly.  
  
She pulled the blankets back from her face and looked up at him. "Now, you don't sound bitter," she commented.  
  
"Places like that put my dad's store out of business, remember?"  
  
"I thought the fire did that," she said. He gave her an ugly look.  
  
"Thank you," he said sarcastically. "I needed to be reminded about that this morning. Now, do you want to get up and eat, or should I just bring it back here and dump it over your head?"  
  
"Alright," she said, yawning. Now that Chloe was awake, she did suddenly feel hungry. Starved in fact. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She kicked the blanket off herself and sat up slowly, rubbing her arms. Then she noticed that the cot Whitney was sitting on was empty. "Where's Clark?" she asked nodding towards it. The cot didn't even look like it had been slept in.  
  
Whitney glanced down at the cot and shrugged. "He's around, I think," he shrugged. "I haven't seen him."  
  
"Not too concerned about it, huh?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Pete's keeping an eye on him," Whitney said, looking away suddenly. "I've had. other things on my mind," he said slowly.  
  
Chloe nodded, thinking back to Tina. She wanted to ask about her, but Whitney didn't look like he was very interested in talking about her. "Clark said he wanted to think last night," she said to fill the moment. "I guess he's still off doing the big brood." She hesitated and then looked up at him.  
  
"What did you think of all that?" she asked. "Last night, I mean. About things being so different where he's from?" Whitney fidgeted on the cot, tapping his fingers together idly. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding making eye contact. "Come'on," she said. "You have to have thought about it?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess I did," he said quietly. He tapped his fingers together again.  
  
"Well?" she asked, leaning forwards.  
  
"It kinda scares me," he admitted. Chloe sat back, blinking. Of all the responses she'd been expecting, that had been the last. She knew what he meant though. She saw herself, that 'other' self in Clark's picture and shuddered. It was just so unnatural; it wasn't her, but then it was her, in a way.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to catch his eye.  
  
"Well, it makes me question a lot of things," he told her slowly. He tapped his fingers together faster. He looked uncomfortable sitting there, trying to put what he felt into words. "I mean. you go through life, you make choices, some good, some bad, and well, that's who you are," he said slowly. "Sometimes you might think: 'well, who would I be if things had turned out differently?' but that's all talk. You don't really think about it."  
  
"Until somebody drops out of the sky and makes you," she remarked. Whitney nodded a little glumly.  
  
"What scares me the most though," he said, "is that there might be more worlds like his out there; different versions of Smallville. Does that mean they're all. I don't know. valid or something? Or is there one 'right' world: the world that's supposed to happen? Are the rest of us just mistakes then? Like, something went wrong, and we're just being left to rot here. 'Cause it would explain a lot about this place," he muttered quietly.  
  
"Lex seems to think we're a mistake," she said suddenly, remembering what he'd said at the meeting.  
  
"I think Lex finds it easier to consider us all one big mistake," he grumbled. "He's always hated everything about who he is. In his mind, anything else couldn't be worse." He stared off into space, frowning. Then he seemed to think of something and stood up quickly.  
  
"Uh, we've got some things for you," he said, picking some clothes up off the floor. They were carefully folded up in a stack, and looked to have more things saved from the Fordman's fire. One of the shirts on the top even looked to have been charred a little on the sleeve. "It's not much, but we figured you'd want to change."  
  
"Thanks," she said, taking it.  
  
"We had to guess on sizes," he admitted. "And most of the stuff is secondhand, at best. They're clean though, that's the important thing. Oh and that pile's Clark's," he added, nodding towards another pile on the floor.  
  
"Thanks," she said again, smiling at him. She lifted up the charred shirt and stared at it for a moment. "I don't suppose you've got a warm shower here, do you?"  
  
He smiled for a moment. "Shower yes, warm no. There's an old chemical shower I'll show you." He saw her blank look and elaborated. "This place used to be a factory, and if there was an accident, like a worker got sprayed with chemicals, you stood him under a shower and pulled the chain. That's all. Again, it's clean, but it's not exactly heated. And there's only one for all of us, so you can't spend all day under it."  
  
"Not too much chance of that happening," she muttered. Then she realized she was being ungrateful and backpedaled. "Sorry, I mean if it weren't for you guys -"  
  
"What? If I hadn't taken you both in, you'd be locked up right now?" he asked, smiling half-heartedly at her. He looked tired, exhausted really. "Maybe you would be, who knows though? Or if Pete hadn't taken us all in? He didn't have to do that, you know. We're nothing but a risk to him, and Lex. Or if you and Clark." he paused for a moment. "Well a lot of things would be different if it wasn't for Clark huh?" he asked, his smile slipping away. "Maybe that's the point of all this."  
  
"It's not his fault," Chloe told him seriously. He looked up at her, and then shrugged.  
  
"Maybe that's the point then. It's nobody's fault. It just happened," he sighed. "And we all just have to live with it." Chloe stared at him, unable to think of a thing to say.  
  
"Well on that note, I guess a little more bad news isn't going to change anything," he said quickly, in the way that suggested he wanted to get through what he had to say as fast as possible. "We've decided to give you this room. We're making one for Clark too down at the other end of the factory."  
  
"My room. right," she said, glancing around. It was a room in only the most generous use of the word. It had been formed by curtaining off an area against the old wall of the factory. As it was, three of her walls were formed by old blankets and tarps strung on line from the ceiling. It gave very little privacy though, and almost made her feel she was in an old tent. Someone had strung an old halogen lamp on a pipe and hung it over her cot, dangling from the electrical wires hanging from the ceiling. Since there was no tarp strung across the top of her room, the only roof was the factory roof, far up above them.  
  
"Hey, it's not like the rest of us have anything better," he pointed out.  
  
"Even Lex?"  
  
Whitney shook his head. "He doesn't stay here that long, he can't really. Not without his father starting to get suspicious."  
  
"Guess I hadn't thought of that," she said slowly. Then she frowned and looked up at him. "So what's the bad news then?"  
  
"That this is going to be your room now until the day we're driven out of here, or we're all caught and killed," he said quickly. "Whichever comes first."  
  
Chloe stopped and stared at him. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You know where this base is, you've seen us, especially Lex, and you know that Clark is here. That's a lot of information we can't risk Luthorcorp getting hold of," he explained patiently. His voice was firm, but he looked at her sympathetically. "So, for your protection and ours, we think it would best if you stayed here with us."  
  
"For how long?" she snapped. "The rest of my life?"  
  
He shook his head and started to say something, but then he glanced at her and seemed to falter. "Maybe," he admitted quietly. "However long it takes to make sure we're all safe."  
  
"What happens if I don't want to wait, huh?" she rounded on him. "What happens if I don't feel like joining up with your little revolution? If I walk out that door right now and say 'kiss my ass', are you going to drag me back in and chain me down? Or wait, why bother doing that when you can just shoot me and get it done with then?"  
  
"No, we wouldn't do that," he shook his head angrily. "Look, Chloe, I know this isn't fair, but-"  
  
"You're damn right it's not fair! I'm not going to sit here and-"  
  
"-But this is too important to be so selfish about," he continued over her. She flared up at the word 'selfish', but kept quiet as he went on. "If we let you go and you get caught, they'll find out everything you know. You may not want to tell them, but they'll find a way to make you." He sighed and sat back, looking at her wearily. "This isn't a game, Chloe. If they catch you, they'll kill you, and it won't be quick. Even if you're uncle is a general," he added.  
  
She stared at him, some of her anger leaving her, but she still didn't want to accept this. "So it's in my best interests to stay, is that it?" she asked, hating the tone in her voice but unable to help herself.  
  
"Yes," he said simply and then added, "for a while at least. Until things are a little safer at least."  
  
"Oh, and when would that be?" she demanded, getting up. She paced across the room and stared at the paint smeared tarp that made up one of her walls. "Until Luthorcorp is all gone? Until Lex is running things instead of his dad? Wait, hey, what am I worried about? At the rate things are going that should be happening two weeks from never!" she yelled.  
  
"Things aren't going that badly," he told her quietly. He was resting his head in his hands as he sat on the cot. Chloe gave him a withering look and continued pacing.  
  
"Easy for you to say," she snarled. "You get to sit things out in your nice little house and watch the rest of us get carted away on the news."  
  
"I never sat things out," he said suddenly, his head snapping up. He glared at her for a minute, his ears red, and then he looked away. "And as for my house," he added, "you don't really see me getting back to it, do you?"  
  
Chloe looked at him, her anger fading. "You too?" she asked.  
  
He nodded at her shortly, but then he sighed and shrugged it away. "We probably would've come out here soon enough anyways," he admitted. "We've been working with Pete and Lex for a while now. I guess the together we probably know more about this outfit than even Lex might. They would've brought us out here eventually to give us more protection."  
  
"'We'?" Chloe asked. "You mean, you and Tina?"  
  
Whitney flinched and looked away from her. He stood up quickly, almost knocking over the cot in his haste. "If I don't save you something there won't be anything left," he said hurriedly. "We don't get a lot of food around here so we have to make it stretch. I'll. uh. let you get ready," he said haltingly, as he backed away from her, his hands fumbling with the curtain that served as her doorway. He finally pulled open the cloth and edged through it, keeping his eyes away from her. She stared after him as the curtain swung close wildly. Then she looked down at her rude little cot and the pile of clothes on the floor. There wasn't even a carpet for her, just a hard concrete slab.  
  
Slowly, she looked around her tiny little corner, at the cold floor, the paint spackled tarp walls and the old, faded curtain doorway. Then she sighed and started to pick up the clothes and pile them on the cot. "Terrific. Just terrific. Home sweet home," she said sadly to herself.  
  
After the meeting had ended, Clark had found himself a dark, lonely section of the factory and had not moved since. It looked to have been an old break room of sorts. There were old, dusty lockers on the wall, some hanging open, covered with cobwebs. A few stained wooden chairs surrounded an old table in the center of the room. None of the chairs had looked too safe, so Clark had just climbed onto the middle of the table and sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. He'd wanted some quiet place he could think, but unfortunately, thinking seemed to be the last thing he was capable of doing right now.  
  
His thoughts seemed to be running away with him. He'd try and sort through what Lex had told him, to get some understanding of what was happening, but then he'd be sidetracked by a memory from home; of his father, of his mother, particularly of his mother. He'd remember her voice and face, the way she always made his eggs just right, how she'd laugh at a joke of his fathers. Then he'd think that she'd probably never laughed much in the last thirteen years, not in this world at least. That sort of thing would definitely snarl his thinking.  
  
When he did manage to push his thoughts away from his family, all he could think about then was Lana. How had she gone from the girl he remembered to the soldier she was now? What had happened to make her change so much? At some point during the night, he had pulled out his wallet and taken out the picture Lana had given him yesterday. He stared at her smiling face and remembered the look she'd given him at the farm this morning, the hate and fury in her eyes. It seemed impossible that it was the same girl, but his heart knew different. It had been her on the farm, and before, in the sewers as well, he realized. What's more, he had a sinking feeling he knew what had changed her so much.  
  
Clark had always been afraid of what would have happened if Lana had ever found out about his secret. Aside for the inherent shock of it, was the fact that his arrival had brought the meteor shower that had killed her parents. He'd lain awake nights wondering, half-dreading her reaction to the truth. What would she say, he'd ask himself. What would she think of him? Would she blame him? It was possible, he thought darkly. It was more than possible.  
  
No, a part of himself argued back. Lana wouldn't think that. She couldn't!  
  
But she does, that other voice answered.  
  
My Lana wouldn't, he thought again. She wouldn't.  
  
But if your Lana had grown up here, that same voice asked, would she be any different? Clark couldn't think of an answer to that.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there when Pete stuck his head into the room. "Still here, huh?" he asked, looking at Clark. He stepped inside, picked up a chair from the floor and set it down. He sat down in it with a quiet sigh and glanced at Clark. "Long night?"  
  
"Have you been keeping track of me?" Clark asked, not bothering to look up.  
  
"Did you think I was just going to let you wander around here on your own?" He smiled a little sympathetically. "Not that you did a lot of wandering. You looked like you needed a little time to yourself so I backed off for a while."  
  
"Thanks," he mumbled, still looking at the photo.  
  
"Not as easy as it sounds," he smiled a bit wryly, "I have to admit I'm more than a little curious about you. I mean, well, no pun intended, but people like you don't fall out of the sky everyday." He grinned and waited. Clark looked at him blankly and then turned back to the picture.  
  
"Right," Pete fumbled, "well anyways I don't think I introduced myself last night. Pete Ross," he stuck out his hand.  
  
Clark stared at it and then looked up at him. "I know who you are," he said quietly.  
  
"Do you?" It was a simple question, but as Clark stared at Pete's hand, he realized that he didn't quite know the answer. Slowly he reached up and took it.  
  
"Clark Kent," he said quietly.  
  
"Glad to meet you," Pete smiled back. He let go and they looked at each other silently for a moment. The moment was strange, but not unpleasant. "Sorry the accommodations are a little lousy," Pete remarked finally. He glanced around and kicked one of the dusty chairs. "But at least I can promise you a little better than this. We've got a room set aside for you. And food if you're interested."  
  
"What about Chloe? Where is she?"  
  
"We've got a room for her too. Can't really throw her out on her ass, can we? Way Whitney tells it, she'll helped out a bit on the farm." He laughed. "Chloe Sullivan. She's the last person I would have picked to wind up in this. Then again, if you'd told me three days ago that this was all going to be happening, I would've thought you were crazy."  
  
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her." Pete glanced at him quickly and then nodded. Clark saw the look in his eyes and explained, "Chloe. She took me to Whitney's and he brought me here."  
  
"I still have a hard time believing all of that," he remarked. "Girl I knew wasn't too up on helping anyone other than herself."  
  
"You knew her?"  
  
"Reputation only; from school, what little I had of it, and from around town. Whitney probably told you about the fire, so you know what she was like," he said.  
  
Clark nodded slowly, thinking back to how he had met her only two days ago; on the run with a stolen cashbox. Had it only been two days ago, he wondered. It felt like a lifetime. "She's changed," he said in her defense.  
  
"We'll see," Pete said. "We've told her she's welcome to stay so she'll have a chance to prove it."  
  
"To stay. I thought. I mean I wanted her to go home after this," he said. "She shouldn't be here, it's too dangerous."  
  
"She doesn't really have much choice in it now, Clark. You think you're the only one Luthorcorp wants to get a hold of? Lex ID'ed Chloe less than an hour after your little stunt at the Talon."  
  
"Well that was nice of him," Clark said between his teeth.  
  
"It's not like they wouldn't have figured it out without him," Pete pointed out bluntly. "Chloe hasn't really lead what you might call a quiet life."  
  
"So she's stuck here because of me," Clark said quietly, sinking back down a little.  
  
"If you're looking to wallow in self-pity, sure, you can think of it like that; or you could realize that she's stuck here because of Luthorcorp and get on with things. I tend to go with the latter." Clark blinked and stared at him. "Personal experience," Pete told him.  
  
"Speaking of getting on with things," he remarked, "Lex and I want to have a talk with you. If you're not too busy that is," he added ingenuously.  
  
"Sorry we haven't been able to put you up somewhere nicer," Lex said quietly. There was stubble on his chin and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted, but he sounded in control. "Of course after the sewer and the Kent farm, this place must seem pretty luxurious by comparison." Pete made a slight movement to cover his face, but Lex ignored it. He stared at Clark, smiling. They were in Lex's private office, or as private as an old storage room could be in an abandoned factory. It was dark, dank, and smelled faintly of ammonia, but it at least had four walls and a real ceiling. And a door. It had swung shut heavily behind Clark, locking behind him.  
  
Lex was sitting at a desk, photo's and files spread across the desk. Most seemed to be of himself, Clark noticed uneasily. Lex saw him looking and held one up. "It's a bit blurred, taken from a helicopter, you understand," he apologized. "From two days ago, at the Talon. We weren't expecting you, or how strong you'd be. Took us all by surprise I think."  
  
"Understatement of the year," Pete said idly. He was leaning against the wall across from Lex. He looked at Clark calmly and then back at Lex. "Get to the point, Lex," he said, not unkindly. "You can't keep your father waiting forever."  
  
"Your father.?" Clark asked. "You're going back to him?"  
  
"I have to keep up appearances," Lex shrugged. He blinked and then pressed his palms against his eyes. "He thinks I'm overseeing a paternity suit or meeting for a tryst or God knows what else," he said, yawning. "He tends to think the worst of me."  
  
"Can't imagine why," Pete smiled.  
  
"I've always tried to be a dutiful son..." Lex said with a straight face. "Living up the Luthor name is a burden."  
  
"The point." Pete reminded him again.  
  
"Right, right," Lex said irritably. Then he fixed his eyes on Clark and all traces of irritation or exhaustion left him. "The point is, what are we going to do now? Or I suppose really the question is: what are you going to do now?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Clark asked.  
  
"It's fairly self-explanatory. What do you want, Clark?" Lex asked him. "You were pulled out of your home, set down here. What do you want to do about it?"  
  
"What does it matter to you?" Clark asked him quietly. "I'm not one of your employees, I don't even belong here." He fought to keep the anger out of his voice, but it seemed to well up out of him. Lex and Pete just stared at him and didn't respond. The silence was almost deafening.  
  
"I don't know what I want," he exploded finally. "Everything that's going on and now my mother, am I expected to just.?" he stopped and then went on. "I don't know what to do because all I want." he trailed off again, but couldn't go on. Lex and Pete just looked at him, silently.  
  
Clark stared back at them for a moment and then got up. He took a few steps towards the door and paused. Lex and Pete hadn't moved to stop him. "I want to go home," Clark told them in a small voice. "I want to forget this place ever existed. Like it was just all a bad dream." He looked up at them. "Is that wrong?"  
  
"Maybe it is," Lex finally said. "But if I were in your shoes, I'd probably be feeling the same thing," he admitted. "Maybe it's not so wrong. This isn't your world; we can't expect you to care about any of us."  
  
"But I do," Clark said sadly.  
  
"And it's not so easy to get back, is it?" Pete asked.  
  
"That's another thing. Sorry to say this, but this could be a one way trip," he said frankly."  
  
"Or maybe it's not," Pete shot Lex a warning look as he stepped in. "Who knows?"  
  
"Pete's right," Lex shrugged. "We can only assume that the Oracle, your mother, brought you here, and no one's ever been able to say definitely what she can't do. If she could bring you here, it's more than possible that she could send you back." He pursed his lips and pushed a hand through his hair, a gesture Clark found strange coming from Lex. "Of course, there's a slight hitch in that plan."  
  
"You're dad isn't exactly selling tickets for the trip," Pete said.  
  
Lex nodded. "She's in the most secure lab in the most heavily guarded facility in the entire world. And I know that because my father spent two billion making sure it was," he said, leaning back with a wince. "Without my father there with you, I don't think anyone could get in."  
  
"Maybe I could," Clark said quietly. "I could break in and find her, make her send me home." He looked up at them and then shook his head and stared down again. "But I can't, can I?"  
  
"Maybe, but I doubt it," Lex said. He started to tick things off on his fingers. "You don't know where the lab is, you don't know what kind of defenses are there or how to get past them, and you don't even know where she's being held. So no, I don't think your chances would be good."  
  
"But you know," Clark said.  
  
Lex smiled and nodded. Then he hesitated and looked at him frankly. "It's not as simple as that though, is it?"  
  
"No," Clark said slowly. "I want to go home," he said again, "but not until I know she's alright. And the other me. I can't leave him there."  
  
"That might not be so wise," Lex said slowly. "You grew up with parents and a normal life, he hasn't had that luxury. Just setting him free might not be a good idea."  
  
"I can't leave him there," Clark said forcefully. "And better he's with us than Luthorcorp." Lex hesitated and then nodded.  
  
Pete whistled. "Both of them. Not going to be easy."  
  
"And Lana," Clark added.  
  
"Try impossible," Lex snorted. He frowned and leaned forwards towards Clark. "Look, your mother and the other you, if you give them a chance, they'll come with you I think. But Lana? She likes it there. She might not want to leave."  
  
"No, Lana, she couldn't be that way." Clark said. "I know her, the real her, she wouldn't."  
  
"This the same girl that shot at you, and Tina?" Pete asked. Clark winced and looked at Lex imploringly.  
  
"Try to understand, Clark," he said. "Lana is everything she is because that's what my father wanted her to be. She's a fanatic when it comes to him. You can't just expect her to change her entire life because you've got a few memories of how she could have been. It might be too late for her."  
  
"I know what she's like now," Clark told them, "but I have to try. If there's even a chance.," he said imploringly. "I have to try." He looked up at Lex and waited. Lex stared back at him, frowning, and then nodded slowly.  
  
"If we do this carefully," he said slowly, "and we have a lot of luck, we might be able to get all three. But, remember what I said, she might not stay here willingly."  
  
Clark smiled and then hesitated, taking a step back. Lex looked at him, surprised. "There's one other thing," Clark told him. "If we get my mom out, she doesn't go to work for you. Or anyone else, ever again." Pete stood up straight, glancing at Lex in alarm. Lex blinked and looked faintly puzzled.  
  
"You think I want her for my own," he said quietly. Clark didn't answer. "If I wanted that, all I would have to do is wait to inherit my father's company. Even before that, all I would have to do is prove myself to him, be the son he wants me to be. But you don't see me doing that, do you?"  
  
"Then what do you get out of this?" Clark asked him.  
  
"I want to salt the earth over the Luthor name; everything he has, everything he's ever lied for, blackmailed to get, cheated someone out of. I want to tear it all down." Lex ran his hands over the surface of the desk, breathing deeply. "I know better than anyone that my father's a monster. I've had to be a monster to get close to him." He glared up at Clark, his blood-shot eyes gleaming. "I want that all to stop," he said with finality.  
  
"I want to stop living in this dump," Pete spoke up. He leaned back against the wall, staring at both of them. His sounded weary, but determined. "I'm tired of seeing people around me go hungry or live on the street. I'm tired of the fact that the only way you can get ahead in this town is if you sell out." He almost spat the words out. "I want this town to be better, the way it used to be." Clark looked at him and then nodded. So did Lex.  
  
"So, Lana, your 'brother', and Mrs. Kent in exchange for bring down my father and putting the town right again," Lex said. "Not too much of an order, " he said dryly.  
  
"Can we do it?" Clark asked him seriously.  
  
Lex shrugged and smiled one-sidedly. "I don't know, but we're sure as hell going to try." 


	24. Nothing to come back to

Chapter 23  
  
"So come'on, show me something," Chloe heard Sarah ask. She was passing by another of the slung walls of tarps and blankets and her voice had come drifting through to the outside. "Please," the girl was saying, "just for a bit, I have to see this."  
  
"No, I really don't want-" Tina's voice came unexpectedly. "How do you..."  
  
"Oh, that's old news around here," Sarah remarked. "Or, not as big as you'd think now; it's sorta been a big day for sharing."  
  
"But how?"  
  
"Oh, that new girl, Chloe something, was talking about it and Pete mentioned something," Sarah breezed. Chloe winced in spite of herself. For a moment, she felt oddly guilty, but then Sarah was continuing on and Chloe moved in closer to listen.  
  
"Anyway," Sarah remarked, "it's not like I would have found out eventually, not with me digging that bullet out of you. A few surprises there. Do you know you don't have any bones? You're body's like. firm jello on the inside." She made a little sound of disgust. Chloe rolled her eyes irritably.  
  
"Am I going to live?" Tina asked dully.  
  
"Well, yeah," Sarah remarked, sounding a little put-off. "It was big bullet, but it didn't go too deep and I got it out. Barring you doing anything weird like melt off the table into a big puddle, you should be fine. But there's still a few things I have to check up on."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Oh, just a few routine questions," she said innocently. Chloe heard her flip over a piece of paper and then clear her throat. "So did you and Whitney ever experiment around with this shape changing thing?"  
  
Chloe threw back the blankets quickly and stepped inside. "Ah jeez, this isn't the poolhouse, is it?" she remarked, glancing around the room. "Place is so confusing." She looked innocently at Sarah and smiled. "Oh, am I interrupting?"  
  
Sarah smiled back at her snidely. "Yeah, actually you were; doctor-patient privilege stuff, strictly confidential. So why don't you turn around and go back to being lost."  
  
"Doctor, huh?" she glanced at the wall behind Sarah and shrugged. "I don't see a diploma."  
  
Sarah's grin got more fixed. "Look," she said between her teeth, "I see scalpels. And needles. And a bone saw. Now who's the doctor?"  
  
"You know it's actually good I ran into you," Chloe told her smoothly. "Lex was asking for you. Something about a headache, maybe a migraine; he thought you could help."  
  
Sarah stared at her intently for a moment and then shrugged. "Fine," she remarked, going to an old cabinet and pulling a drawer open. She rummaged around for a moment and came out with a plastic bottle. "You think you can handle watching Tina for a while?" Chloe nodded brightly and waved her out. She started to leave and then holding the curtain-door aside, she paused and turned around. "So how's ET?" she asked casually. "Feeling, I mean. Sounds like he's been through a lot."  
  
"I think he prefers 'Clark'," Chloe said shortly. "And he's doing just fine."  
  
"You've talked to him?"  
  
"Not really," Chloe admitted. Sarah smiled faintly at that.  
  
"'Clark', huh?" she considered. "Well, anyway, tell him to stop by if he needs anything. I'd really like to take a look at him."  
  
"Yeah, I'll do that," Chloe told her dryly. Sarah smirked and left, the curtain swing back and forth behind her. Chloe glared after her and then shook her head. "Bitch," she muttered under her breath.  
  
"Amazing," Tina said quietly. "It takes most people a few days to realize that. And you didn't even have her digging a bullet out of your arm." She was sitting up in an old hospital bed that looked like it had been salvaged from the junk pile. Tina didn't look much better. She was very pale and the skin on her face looked stretched. Her hair hung limply against her face. A heavy bandage was wrapped around her shoulder, stained pink in the center. She smiled wanely at Chloe. "You're all right. That's good," she said without conviction. "Sarah didn't tell me how you were."  
  
"Oh my God, does it hurt?" Chloe blurted out, then immediately backtracked. "What am I saying, of course it hurts. You got shot, didn't you," she said in a rush then. "Why do people always ask that? It's a stupid question to ask someone. I'm stupid, geez."  
  
"A little," Tina told her. Chloe stopped and they stared at each other for a moment, then they both laughed. Tina went pale and winced, her other hand reaching up to touch her bandaged shoulder gently. Chloe stood there uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. Tina sat up, biting her lip for a moment, and then she relaxed, falling back into the bed with a pained sigh. She lay there with her eyes closed, breathing heavilyl. She asked weakly, "Lex doesn't really have a headache, does he?"  
  
"What do you think?" A smile flashed briefly across Tina's face. "Well, he'll have one when she finds him." She tried to sound cheerful but it was hard to keep it up watching Tina. "So, well. I guess I should say thanks. for back at the farm. That was really something." Tina made a pained face and turned on her side, her bandaged shoulder propped up. "You're kind of a big hero now, you know? Everyone thought so," she tried to cheer her up.  
  
"They all know about me now," Tina said quietly.  
  
Chloe winced and said slowly , "Sorry about that. It's my fault," she admitted. She faltered and looked down at her feet. She'd done a lot of questionable things in her life, but she'd never really felt bad about anything before. It wasn't even that serious, Lex would have found out eventually, but still, it didn't make that uncomfortable feeling of guilt go away. "Everybody was asking a lot of questions and Clark and Whitney didn't really feel like talking." Tina opened her eyes at Whitney's name, but didn't respond at once.  
  
"After the farm, he brought you here?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
"Who? Whitney? Yeah, it was his idea. You were. well, you know, out of it, and we couldn't really bring you to a hospital. So he took us here."  
  
"How. How is he?" she asked.  
  
"He's fine," she replied, a little puzzled. "He's been in to see you, hasn't he?" Tina looked away quickly and shook her head. "Oh my God, he hasn't. That.," several words came to mind, but she thought of Tina and picked the least offensive, ".jerk! You save his ass and he hasn't even seen you yet?"  
  
"I don't want to see him," Tina said quickly, her voice almost frantic. "This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't."  
  
"What?" Chloe asked, a little alarmed.  
  
"I did it for him," she said, sounding near tears. "I did it all for him, but he wasn't supposed to find out."  
  
"About you?" Chloe asked, stepping towards her. She tried to touch her gently, but Tina flinched away from her hand. She pushed herself away from Chloe, covering her face with her arms. "Tina, what's wrong?"  
  
"Do you know what it's like to grow up like this?" Tina asked her from behind her arms. "With a secret? Always knowing you were a freak, that the face you showed everyone was a lie?"  
  
"Tina, I don't.," Chloe started, trying to comfort her. She reached across the bed and tried to pull Tina's arms away from her face when the other girl thrust her away. Chloe stumbled back and then gasped as she saw the girl lying on the bed. It wasn't Tina she saw, but her own face staring back at her.  
  
"This is all I am," Tina said with Chloe's own voice, "a mirror. A freak. I'm no one, just a living reflection." She held her hand up and stared at it. Slowly, her skin started to flow and ripple around her and then she was Tina again. All Chloe could do was stand there gaping. Tina looked at her sadly and shook her head. "With Whitney I could pretend, and that's gone now," she moaned. "I was doing it for him; I wasn't supposed to come back. I wasn't supposed to come back."  
  
"I knew there wasn't going to be anything to come back to," she cried.  
  
"What am I supposed to be looking at here?" Clark grunted, sitting back in his chair. Pete glanced up at him and gave him a sympathetic look.  
  
"I know what you mean," he said. "My brain gave up trying to read anything an hour ago." He pushed his hand through the papers littering the desk. "All I see now are just blue lines and blurry numbers."  
  
"They're the blue prints and security read outs to the lab," Lex told them evenly. While Clark and Pete had been bent over the table for the last few hours, he had pushed his chair further back and was sitting away from them with his computer resting on his lap. He varied between typing idly at it and staring motionlessly at the ceiling. "They're as up to date as I could get, so it'd be a good idea to familiarize yourself with them. Of course we still don't have anything on Lab 2, where they're keeping you mother, Clark. I couldn't even find the original blue-prints for it."  
  
"At least you know where it is," Clark said. "All you need to do is get me there, I'll do the rest."  
  
"Optimism is a wonderful thing, but I'd prefer to know what I was charging into first." Lex rubbed the back of his neck and pursed his lips. "Still," he allowed, "whatever defenses my father has in there, I don't think he'd have planned on someone with your abilities breaking in."  
  
"That's something," Pete remarked.  
  
"Of course, he has the rest of the base for that," Lex went on. "Magnetized shutters, high speed motion detectors, nerve gas, guards armed with the meteor powered lasers." He smiled and shook his head.  
  
Pete raised his eyebrows and stared at him. "Sounds fun," he said finally. "Glad I'll be there."  
  
"No, actually you won't," Lex told him.  
  
"Thank God!" Pete burst out, relieved. Then he blinked and asked, "Wait, why not!?"  
  
"Too many people would recognize you and I need you to do something else for me." Lex moved his chair back to the table and put his laptop down on it. "I need you to organize a distraction outside the city, something loud enough to draw most of the attention away from the base for a night."  
  
"Done and done," he said with a smirk. "I can usually find something of your dad's worth burning. That's not going to get everyone out of the labs though. You're dad didn't even evacuate when that tornado plowed through last year."  
  
"The less we have to fight the better," Lex told him.  
  
"Yeah, but it still leaves a hell of a lot left. Any bright ideas about getting them out?"  
  
Lex smiled broadly at them. "Who said anything about getting them out? I'm going to lock them in."  
  
"How are you going to manage that?" Clark asked.  
  
"You forget you're talking to the executive vice-president of Luthorcorp, and as such, I have clearance for almost all of the electric locks in the building. I can rearrange the guards' roster so almost everyone's in their barracks and then seal them up inside."  
  
"Leaving us a clear path inside," Pete finished.  
  
"Not quite clear," Lex amended. "If I draw everyone off it'll look suspicious, I'll have to leave a few at least. Not enough to worry about though."  
  
"I'll take care of that," Clark said. "I've gotten pretty good at dealing with your father's soldiers."  
  
"No, you'll be somewhere else when we come in," Lex told him. "Getting you in the front door wouldn't help us, you'll have to be-"  
  
The door swung open at the end of the room and Chloe walked in hurriedly. She was holding a length of pipe underneath her arm. They all stood up in surprise, but she hardly stopped to notice them. She glanced around the room, her eyes resting briefly on Clark, and then moving away. "Anyone seen Whitney?" she asked.  
  
"Not recently," Lex answered, frowning slightly as he stared at the pipe. "What were planning on doing with that?"  
  
"This?" she asked, holding it up. It looked blunt and very heavy. "I was thinking of just beating him senseless with it. Anyone have any problems with that?"  
  
Clark blinked in surprise and took a step forwards. "Chloe, what's going on?"  
  
She turned on him and looked at him in mock surprise. "Gee sorry, Clark, didn't notice you there. So this is where you've been hiding out lately. Thanks for checking up on me by the way, I'm fine."  
  
"I meant to," he started guiltily, "it's just things have been a little crazy. We've been trying to get a plan together-"  
  
"Yeah, save it. If Whitney wasn't numero uno on my hit list I'd be denting this thing on your skull right about now." She started to leave and then turned around, glaring at Lex and Pete. "Oh and guys, great little clubhouse you've got here. Thanks a bunch for giving me the lifelong membership."  
  
"Is that why you're about to give Whitney a concussion?" Lex asked idly. "Haven't you ever heard of the phrase, 'don't shoot the messenger,'?"  
  
"Or beat him senseless with a lead pipe?" Pete added.  
  
"No, it was sort of a scorned woman thing. Well, I'm not the scorned woman or anything; I'm just passing it on for a friend. She'd do it herself if she wasn't shot," she emphasized. "Oh, she's fine to by the way. If you guys are done with your little circle-jerk in here you might want to think about seeing her."  
  
Clark flushed a little and looked away. Lex didn't seem to notice, he was frowning quietly. "I didn't consider that," he remarked to himself.  
  
"Yeah, I'd kind of figured that since no one's been in to see her yet," Chloe said acidly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've something to take care of."  
  
"If you can hold off on that for a minute," Lex said quickly, "I've got a job for you."  
  
"Oh it won't take a minute," she said. "I'm pretty sure if I can get a few good swings in I can take him."  
  
"Well before we have to find out, I'd like you to stay with Tina for a while," he said smoothly. "Pete will handle talking to Whitney."  
  
Pete looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I might even be able to do it without cracking his head open."  
  
"What's the use of that, then?" Chloe asked petulantly.  
  
"Chloe," Lex said quietly.  
  
Finally she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Fine, but if I'm the only one in there today, Whitney's not the only one who's going to be seeing double for a while." She tossed the pipe away with a clatter and stormed off, shaking her head. Pete started after her, when Lex called him back.  
  
"I think I'll have to handle Whitney," he told him, getting up. "You and Clark have something else to take care of."  
  
"We do?" Pete asked. "When did this happen?"  
  
"When I caught a company-wide message posted by my father a little while ago." Lex glanced at Clark. "It seems you had more of an effect on Lana than anyone thought. She's gone missing."  
  
"Missing?" Clark said, surprised. "You mean she just ran off?"  
  
"That's the scientific explanation for it, yes," Lex smiled. "My father's got everyone he can spare looking for her. It'll be risky, but if you can find her before they do, it would save us a lot of effort."  
  
"Not much though, she's not going to come quietly," Pete said frankly.  
  
"No, I think I can do it," Clark told them. He saw their disbelieving looks and nodded more forcefully. "I know I can."  
  
Pete glanced at Lex and he nodded slightly in response. Reluctantly Pete shrugged and then squared his shoulders. "All right then, any ideas where we might find her?"  
  
"She's lived in the lab since she's been five years old," Lex raised his hands helplessly, "I don't even know if she has anything left to go back to. Plus, if Clark had as much an affect on her as I'm guessing, she'd be confused and frightened. Who knows where she'd go to?"  
  
"I might have an idea," Clark said slowly. 


	25. Tears

Chapter 24  
  
"I hope you're right about this," Pete said in a tight voice, "'cause I'd hate to think we dodged three patrols and a helicopter for nothing." He crouched low in the bushes outside the cemetery, seeming to blend in with the shadows effortlessly. Clark was crouched beside him, feeling conspicuous and out in the open. Pete had led them unerringly across half the town, knowing the usual patrol routes and avoiding them easily. With Clark's senses, they'd also been able to dodge a few unexpected surprises along the way.  
  
"That makes two of us," Clark muttered.  
  
"So your Lana's always been hung up about her parents? And our one loves hunting us down and doing Lionel's dirty work." Pete smiled grimly. "Why'd we get the good one, huh?" Clark didn't say anything, just stared ahead. Pete glanced at him and then looked out again, shrugging. "You sure she's going to come here?"  
  
"If she's upset, or confused, she'll come here. The Lana I know would," Clark told him softly.  
  
"Would the Lana you know hold a gun to your head?" Pete asked him frankly.  
  
"I hope not."  
  
"Good," Pete told him, his voice hardly carrying the few feet between them, "because I think I just saw her. There," he pointed, "looks like she was behind some crypts." Clark followed his finger and nodded as he saw her. She was standing still, holding onto the wall of a crypt. It was too far to see her face, but somehow he knew it was her. He started to get up when Pete grabbed his hand.  
  
"Wait, do you have any idea what you're going to do? Are you just going to grab her or."  
  
"I'm going to talk to her," he hissed quietly. "Someone has to."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause that worked so well before, right? Look, she might be alone now, but if you just walk up to her, she'll call everyone in a ten mile radius down on us. Just hit her before she knows what's happening. You can have your heart to heart later." Clark stared at him for a moment and then pulled out of his grasp roughly. "Dammit, wait!" Pete hissed, but Clark ignored him and kept going.  
  
Lana stared at her parents' graves silently, unable to think of a thing to say to them. It helped, she'd found, to think of them as still here, that they could hear her when she talked to them. When she'd been younger, she'd come here as often as Lionel would allow her; to tell them of what was happening, what she was doing with herself. It had been bittersweet comfort, setting her mind at ease but always leaving her with a cold, hollow feeling inside.  
  
She shivered as the night wind blew through the cemetery, making her rub her arms lightly. Parting her lips, she started slowly. "Hello. I bet you're wondering what I'm doing back here. I know I haven't been in a while." How long had it been since she'd visited them, she wondered. A year, years? Things had been confusing lately, time seemed to pass by so quickly for her, and sometimes she wondered why she felt she had nothing to show for it. "I guess it's been a lot longer than I thought."  
  
"You like the uniform," she tried to smile, but her face betrayed her. Commander of the LuthorCorps, how about that?" she asked, her voice cracking. "I worked so hard for it. I told you, right? I think I told you." Something started to pound in her head and she touched her temples lightly. "No, I told. Dr. Crane about it, and you. He said something about both of you. and Mr. Luthor.," she stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. The pain spiked as she groped for the thought, but she wouldn't let it go. She reached for it and suddenly it was there. "Duty! Duty," she breathed out. "It was about duty."  
  
"I owe everything to you," she whispered. "You loved me, and then you weren't there anymore. He took you away." She sniffed and looked away, closing her eyes. "I wanted to go with you so badly." The wind whistled by her again, but this time she didn't shiver, she was reliving the past, fourteen years ago.  
  
I was all alone, she thought, and then he was there, Lionel, Mr. Luthor. A man as big and as powerful as her father had always seemed to her. He'd brought her out of the darkness, given the entire world back to her. But of course, he couldn't give her back everything. No, it was too late for that.  
  
He'd come to her again one day, right at this spot, crying at her parents grave. She'd still been young, small enough for him to lift her up and brush the tears from her face. He'd told her how sorry he was for her parents, but that he might have a way for her to make it better. How, she'd asked. He'd laughed then and kissed her on the cheek. Then he'd asked, what do you remember about that day?  
  
Even now, deep in her thoughts, she shuddered as she remembered. There had been fire and smoke, the entire sky screaming like it was being torn apart. And in the midst of all that, between the moans and screams, she remembered seeing someone: a boy, standing by a ruined hunk of metal, staring at her. The expression on his face, she could almost see it now, in her thoughts, but then it was carried away. It had seemed important then, but she couldn't understand why.  
  
Do you know who he was, Lionel had asked her. Or I should ask, what he was? She'd shaken her head, mystified. He had smiled at her then, not at all like the way her father had smiled at her, and had said, then I'll have to show you.  
  
They'd driven in a limo then, her first ride in a limo, though she didn't enjoy it much. She felt trapped, caged inside of it. Every time she'd looked at Lionel worriedly, he'd had that same smile for her. He'd pat her leg and say something reassuring, but there had been a look in his eyes that had frightened her. She hadn't known what it was called then, but now she could put a name to it.  
  
Possession, she thought. He looked at me like I was already his property. The same look had been in his eyes when he called me into his office a few days ago. Has he thought of me that way since the very beginning?  
  
She hadn't looked up until they'd gotten to the lab and even then, all she could look at was Lionel's face. He'd seemed excited and eager for her and so she'd tried to be too, but she couldn't match him. Her stomach had felt like a lump of ice, freezing the half-smile on her face. Lionel had pulled her along after him, into the labs and through the heavy doors into that room.  
  
It was big and dark and empty. The only light came from a window growing up out of the floor at the end of the room. Unable to stop herself, she'd walked forward and had seen that the window looked down into another room, this one much smaller with pristine white walls that were so brightly lit they were almost blinding. She'd squinted briefly and then stared as she saw down into the room. There had been a boy in that room, clad in a dirty pair of white pants and shirt and sitting on a tattered green blanket. He had been playing idly with a simple rag doll, holding it in his hands and turning it around and around. He almost looked to have been studying it. Then casually, he had pulled the head off the doll and tossed it away. She had watched him stare at the bit of stuffing hanging off the neck of the doll and then he had tossed the rest of it away as well.  
  
Do you recognize him, Lionel had asked her, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She'd shaken her head mutely. Look closer, he had told her, smiling. Almost against her will, she had turned back and looked down again. The boy had noticed them standing there by now. As she had looked down, their eyes had met and she had seen something in them, but it had been all too much for her to understand then. It was too much even now, she thought. But whatever she might have seen, it had all been driven from her when Lionel had bent down and whispered into her ear.  
  
He's the same boy you saw the day your parents were killed. What's more, he's the reason they're dead in the first place. He caused the shower to happen, it's his fault that your parents are dead. Her soul had seemed to fracture as she'd heard it. All she had been able to do was to stare down into his cell, staring at the remains of that doll the boy had so casually ripped to pieces.  
  
He's dangerous, powerful, Lionel had whispered to her. Given half a chance, he'd kill more people, many more. We have to keep him here, we have to make sure he can never get out. I have the best people for that, but they might not understand everything about him. They might not know how important it is that he stays here, they might even feel sorry for him, and forget about what he's done. I need someone who I can trust Lana. Someone who knows just what's at stake. Do you understand?  
  
"Yes," she whispered now, just as she had then.  
  
Do you want him to get out? Do you want more him to kill more parents? Just like he did yours?  
  
"No," she whispered.  
  
That's a good girl, he had whispered. She had opened her eyes and looked down at the boy again. He was still staring up at her dispassionately. That's a good girl.  
  
"Lana."  
  
So caught up in her thoughts, she heard her name come from the boy. He was staring up at her and she heard him speak again. "Lana." Now he wasn't looking at her coldly anymore, but with those same strange, deep eyes of the other one, the alien at the farm. Something about those eyes had shaken her, made her leave LuthorCorp to come here, upsetting everything she'd come to accept about her life. None of her training could show her how to deal with the way those eyes made her feel. She'd been taught about fear and hate, and yes, she'd felt both when he had looked at her, but it was also something more, something she couldn't understand or face. Those eyes made her want to run, to run desperately away before something terrible happened.  
  
Then to her horror, the boy started to cry from one eye, but blood, not tears. It was running down his face and dribbling onto the floor, pooling around the torn doll lying forgotten on the floor. At first, she'd thought it was formless, but now she could see it was a girl, a rag doll version of a fairy princess in fact. As she watched the blood stained the doll's pink dress a deeper red.  
  
"Lana?" the boy said again, and this time she nearly screamed in surprise, falling to her knees. She was crying so hard the world was a blur in front of her. Someone was on their knees in front of her, holding her upright. She gasped for air, disoriented, and blinked her eyes clear.  
  
"Easy, easy," someone was saying as she slowly came back to herself. She was still in the cemetery, she could see her parents' graves to her left. She sighed and looked up at whoever had kept her from falling, and froze as she saw who it was.  
  
"Easy," the alien said again to her. He was staring back at her worriedly, still holding onto her shoulder. "Just take it easy, I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly.  
  
"NO!" she cried, her hand going to her gun before she could finish the word, but then the alien's hand was there, pining hers to her side. His grip was strong, but not painful, still she almost screamed as he held her.  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to say again, but she kept struggling. Before he could stop her, she pulled her other arm away and smashed him in the neck, right in the Adam's apple. He gasped, probably more from shock then from pain, but his grip didn't slip. She swung at him again, striking him in the face this time. "Stop it," he yelled and caught her arm as she pulled it back again. Her fingers were already starting to swell up and some were bleeding as he held her hand.  
  
"Let go of me," she hissed at him. "Let me go!"  
  
"Please, I just need to talk to you," he tried to say, but she cried out and thrashed against him.  
  
"Let me go, let me go!" she yelled as loudly as she could.  
  
"Lana, I just want to." She thrashed her body away from him trying to break free one last time, but then something came from behind and struck her and she fell forwards into darkness. 


	26. Cell and Cage

Chapter 25  
  
Chloe leaned over the window ledge and stared into the old factory room. It had been a meeting room once, with a glass window set into the wall that separated it from the rest of the factory. The window was gone of course now, but in its place had been set rough, mismatched iron bars, looked to have been scrounged from wherever they could be found. It was a prison of sorts, Lex had told her, the closest they had out here, and a fitting place for its new occupant. Pete and Clark had brought her in, Pete none too gently handling her. Against Clark's wishes he'd taken charge of her and had set her in this room, tied to a chair. She hadn't resisted, indeed, she was still unconscious, with a nasty bump on the back of her head. There was also a rough bandage wrapped around one of her hands.  
  
"Well," Chloe said finally, "good work, I guess. Just one thing, what do we do with her now?"  
  
"It does sort of beg the question," Lex said. He leaned closer to the bars and stared in. "You know, I could get used to seeing her like this."  
  
"We're not keeping her in there," Clark said quietly. He was standing away from them, staring at the floor. He looked to be trying to avoid even glancing inside the cell. "This is just temporary, until she-"  
  
"Until she dies of old age," Pete broke in. "Or until she gives up hating us, turns her entire life around, and spends the rest of her life feeding the starving little children. Whichever comes first."  
  
Chloe smiled. "Which one of you gave her the bump?"  
  
"Who do you think?" Pete smirked. "Just paying her back for a lot of my people."  
  
"I told you I could bring her in," Clark snapped at him angrily. "You didn't have to do that."  
  
"Hey, not everyone's forgotten about all those people her goon squad killed at the Talon." He glanced into the cell and shook his head, disgusted. "I should've done a lot worse."  
  
"Don't you mean, 'could've'?" Chloe asked.  
  
"No," Pete answered shortly.  
  
"Clark, Pete," Lex said stepping between them. "We don't have time to do this right now," he said firmly. "Lana's here and she's alive," he said to Clark, then he shifted his gaze to Pete. "That was part of our deal, remember? So let's just focus on what we have to do now. We'll have enough trouble without adding to it."  
  
"Like how we're going to get into Luthorcorp?" Whitney asked quietly. It had taken a long conversation with Lex to get him to here, and even know he stayed on the outer edge of the group, not contributing much. The fact that Chloe kept giving him murderous looks didn't seem to make him feel more comfortable.  
  
"Oh getting in is the easy part," Lex told him. He nodded at Clark. "At least for some of us that is."  
  
"You mean me? I thought you said I couldn't break in," Clark said, confused.  
  
"You're forgetting the fact that they want to catch you, Clark. You're going in the front door; maybe a little worse for the wear, but you'll be inside. And right where we want you."  
  
"Under a fucking gun?" Chloe exploded. "Are you insane? What kind of plan is that?"  
  
"The only one," Lex told her simply. He pulled out his laptop and opened up a file on it. On the screen, blueprints and room schematics flashed by, showing a large octagonal shaped room. "I've spent the last three years of my life planning ways to take my father's lab. I've considered everything from mercenaries to cyber terrorism to a full-scale nuclear assault, so believe me when I say I've considered all the angles."  
  
He looked at Clark and smiled. He tapped the screen slowly. "When they take you in, they only have one place to put you, right in the cell with your. 'brother'," he said plainly.  
  
" 'Brother'," Clark said slowly, testing it out. He'd never thought he'd ever be able to say that word before.  
  
"They're not really brothers though," Chloe pointed out.  
  
" 'Parallel version of himself' is a bit of mouthful," Lex said dryly.  
  
"This is some pretty major stuff here," Whitney said slowly, staring at the screen. "Nuclear silos aren't this well guarded."  
  
"Believe me, I know," Lex agreed. Chloe gave him a look and he shrugged. "I consider everything."  
  
"What if they put him somewhere else?" Pete pointed out.  
  
"They don't have a choice," Lex smiled, "there's nowhere else that has a chance of holding him. I mean, it's not like they can just put him in a normal cell."  
  
"So I get in that way," Clark said slowly.  
  
"Clark, come'on," Chloe said. "There's gotta be a better way of getting in there than just handing yourself over to them."  
  
"If. Lex says that's the only way," Clark told her, "then I believe him." Lex looked faintly surprised for a moment and smiled.  
  
"Thank you," he said simply. "It won't be easy though. My father's people aren't going to be gentle. Do you think you can handle it?"  
  
"I don't have much choice, do I?" Clark sighed. Lex nodded slowly, staring at him. Chloe bit her lip, looking doubtful, but said nothing. Eventually, Pete broke the silence.  
  
"So he gets inside his. 'brother''s cell and what? Convinces him to join up?"  
  
"We're not that lucky," Lex grunted. "Your brother's spent his life in a cell; he's not likely to have much love for anyone, even the people who free him. The least we can expect from him though is to help you break out, and occupy the guards afterwards."  
  
"You see, the cell is only meant to hold one," Lex said, bending over the schematic on the table. "And even then it has its limits. All of these defenses have been stretched to their limits and it still isn't enough sometimes. The two of you together, with your combined strength should be able to force your way out."  
  
"Are you sure," Chloe asked seriously, "or are you just guessing." Clark glanced at her, surprised. He hadn't expected her to get this involved in everything here.  
  
"I'm positive," Lex assured her. "He's already broken out twice before."  
  
"When?" Clark asked, surprised. Lex winced momentarily, like he'd said too much. Strangely, Clark thought he his eyes go to Chloe briefly and then flash away.  
  
"Once when he was very young," he said. "I don't think they'd had him a year or two there yet. No one knew how strong he was yet and they had him in a normal holding cell. Needless to say, a steel door wasn't much of a challenge to him. He didn't get far though and they increased the guard on him until they had this built."  
  
"What about the second time?" Pete asked.  
  
"It was a few years ago," Lex said calmly. There was something in his voice that was too even, too controlled for Clark though. He frowned and listened closely.  
  
"Someone forgot to follow all the procedures when they brought him out for the daily run-through," Lex told them. "Apparently not all the safeties had been engaged on his manacles and he managed to get an arm free. He did. quite a bit of damage before he was contained again. He actually did get pretty far on his own before they caught him. About ten feet further and he'd have made it to the front gate. With a little help, he might go all the way this time," he finished.  
  
"What's the 'daily run-through'?" Clark asked quietly. Lex's mouth was fixed in a tight line and he didn't look at Clark. "What is it?" he repeated.  
  
"My father has been doing experiments on your brother almost since the first day he arrived," he said finally. There was silence in the room for a moment as everyone stared at him. Chloe glanced at Clark quickly, one of her hands reaching out to him on reflex. Clark didn't say anything, just stood there, his gut clenching.  
  
"What kind of experiments?" he managed to choke out finally.  
  
"The kind you'd expect them to do on an alien. The kind you see in the movies," he said, swallowing. "Genetic sequencing, tissue samples, testing his abilities, his body chemistry," he listed in a whisper. "Very few of them are painless."  
  
"I don't know how this will make you feel, but by now they've learned everything they possibly could from him, probably a long time ago. They keep doing them though, every day." Clark stared at him too stunned to speak. "That's why I've been trying to hurry this along," Lex told him quietly. "What's been done to him is inhuman."  
  
"LuthorCorp's famous for that," a tired voice said from the other end of the room. They looked up in surprise at Tina, standing there in the doorway. She was wearing a t-shirt that was a few sizes too big and an old pair of blue jeans. Strands of thickly wrapped bandages wrapped around her shoulder and upper body peaked out from the neckline of her shirt. She looked utterly drained and washed out, but she was standing on her own. She kept her eyes lowered though, and refused to look at anyone.  
  
Whitney stood up straight in surprise and then seemed to shrink into himself. He started to back up towards the rear of the group. "Tina," Lex said quietly, "I'm glad you could come. I wasn't sure you'd be up for it."  
  
"I heal quick," she said shortly. "What's she doing here?" she went on, nodding towards the cell behind them.  
  
"Meet our way into LuthorCorp," he told her with a momentary grin.  
  
"We've met. She shot me."  
  
"Right," Lex said slowly.  
  
"How is she going to get us into LuthorCorp?" Pete asked.  
  
"I have access to some of the security measures inside the lab. Benefits of being my father's son," he smiled ironically. "Using them I can shut down roughly half of the defenses there; security cameras, motion detectors, and most recently, the security measures around your brother's cell." Clark looked up quickly, but Pete wasn't impressed.  
  
"Half, huh? What does that leave?"  
  
"Only the most dangerous defenses, including the LuthorCorps' barracks on the base," he smiled briefly again. "There are ways to lock them all down, to keep them down for as long as we want. Unfortunately, only two people can access them." He paused. "Fortunately, we now have one of them."  
  
They were all silent for a moment and then Pete cleared his throat slowly. "Somehow I don't she's gonna give those codes up willingly, Lex."  
  
"Wait, we're not gonna." Chloe left it hanging.  
  
"Oh please," Lex laughed, "we couldn't get them that way even if we wanted to. She's been trained to resist interrogation. And besides, they're not the sort you can torture out of anyone."  
  
"What are they then?" she asked, puzzled.  
  
Lex looked at Tina closely for a moment, pursing his lips. "Tina, can you fake fingerprints and retinal scans?"  
  
Slowly, almost against her will, Tina raised her head and looked at him. "Fingerprints," she said quietly. "I've never tried retinal."  
  
Lex sighed in relief. "If you can fake fingerprints, you can fake retinal," he said, relieved. "And I know how well you can do the rest."  
  
Tina stared at him and then looked past him towards the cell with slowly dawning horror. "You want me to fake her?" she asked in a whisper. Lex stepped towards her quickly as she looked back at him. "No, I can't do it. I can't walk in there."  
  
"You can," he told her. "It's the only way, Tina. We need her access to shut everything down. It's the only way to pull this off." She stared at him and then her eyes strayed past his, staring towards Whitney. Clark looked back and then saw he was gone. At some point he had disappeared.  
  
"I need you to do this," Lex said again. She kept staring past him and then slowly she looked away. Lex let her go and took a step back, looking towards Clark. "I need everyone on this."  
  
"Do you really think this can work?" Pete asked quietly.  
  
"Why don't you ask Lana?" Lex asked, now sounding weary. "She's been listening to us for the last few minutes I imagine." Everyone jumped in spite of themselves and looked towards the cell. Lana was still slumped over in her chair, tied up tightly. Then suddenly, she lifted her head up and stared at them coldly. "Welcome back," Lex said quietly.  
  
"I want to be disappointed in you, Lex," she said in a dead voice. "I want to feel betrayed or angry, but the truth is that I can't. I guess I always suspected you'd try something like this." She looked past him to Clark and then back. "I just can't believe how far you'd go." He smiled to himself and turned away.  
  
"He's right though," she continued. "You'll be able to get in; he's good enough to get you that far. But only that far." A bit of blood trickled down from her hairline and ran down her face, crossing her cheek. She didn't even blink as it happened. Instead, she stared at Clark. "If you think you're going to be able to help him," she said, "you're wrong." She started to laugh, her face horribly contorted. "You don't have the slightest idea what you're getting yourself into. You're think you're just going to walk in and invite the other one to join you? You're just going to go ask him and he'll help?" She started to laugh harder. "Don't any of you realize what he is? Why all the defenses are there? We didn't put him in a cell," she gasped, tears rolling down her face, turning her cheek pink as they mixed with the blood. "We put him in a cage. And all of you are going to find out why." 


	27. Broken Mirror

Chapter 26  
  
Tina was halfway to the front of the factory before Pete caught up to her. "Wait," he called after her, but she kept going. She was walking fast with her head down, ignoring him. "Tina, wait a minute, come'on!" He grabbed her arm to try and pull her back, but she spun around and slammed him painfully into the side of Lex's car. He grunted as the breath rushed out of him. He nearly dropped to his knees before she caught him. She lifted him up with one hand and shoved him back against the car none too gently.  
  
"I can't do this," she said, her voice strained. She looked to be holding back tears as she said it. Lex came up behind them, but stopped as Tina stared at him. "None of you can make me. I can't," she repeated.  
  
"We need. your help," Pete gasped out. She shook her head forcefully.  
  
"You'll find another way, you have to!" she yelled. "There has to be."  
  
"There isn't," Lex told her. Clark came running up behind him and started towards Pete, but Lex thrust out his hand and stopped him. He glanced at Pete quickly and then eyed Tina warily. "I know you're upset right now," he said in a calming tone, "but believe me when I say I wouldn't put you in that sort of danger if there was another way."  
  
"Believe you!" She sounded near hysteria. "You come up with this crazy plan and tell us all we follow that or it's nothing. No! I'm not going to do it. Figure out something else."  
  
"Listen to him, Tina," Clark said. "Please, we all have to do this."  
  
"Tina, this is the best way, I've thought this out," Lex insisted. "I know there's a risk, but there's always going to be risk. This is my father's lab; we can't just expect to walk in."  
  
"Your father's lab." she repeated.  
  
"Yes, my father's." Lex said.  
  
She swallowed and said nervously, "Is that why you're doing this? Why Clark has to go in chains? So you can just hand us over to him?"  
  
"I wouldn't do that!" Lex yelled at her.  
  
"It's easy for you if we get caught," she yelled back, holding Pete higher. "You just go back to your father. You can walk away from this."  
  
Lex flushed, almost matching the color of his hair. "Do you really have that little faith in me?" he asked quietly. He locked eyes with Tina. "I've gone too far for that now. Do you think my father would let me live if he knew about this?" he gestured around them. "Mercy isn't in my father; it's not in his blood. Believe me, I know." Tina looked uncertain. "I'm in this as much as the rest of you. I know what's at stake."  
  
Her arm holding Pete drooped and finally she let him fall. He slumped to his knees, gasping for air. She stepped away from him, staring at Lex. "What happens to me if I get caught?" She asked, her voice cracking. "What's at stake for me? They wouldn't kill me, no. They'd do tests. More tests, everyday, just like Clark's brother. Wouldn't they!" she demanded.  
  
"Yes, probably," Lex said with a sigh.  
  
She nodded, looking away. "I'd rather you'd let me bleed to death," she said in a detached voice.  
  
"What about." Pete coughed and went on, "what about if we win? You're forgetting about that, Tina." He pushed himself off the car and stood shakily. "If we win this, you get your freedom back."  
  
"What?" she asked, confused.  
  
Behind them, unnoticed, Whitney stepped closer. He hadn't disappeared when Tina had arrived at the meeting, only stayed out of sight. Even then, he'd stayed close enough to hear what was going on, just as he was doing now.  
  
"If we actually pull this off, if we win. Have you thought about that?" Pete asked her hoarsely. "How long do you think Lionel can last without his alien or his pet psychic? It'll be like a house of cards, all coming tumbling down." He grinned. "We get our town back then, just like it used to be. No Luthorcorp, no factories, no more breathing in crap every time you try and take a deep breath. It'll all be back to normal."  
  
Tina stared at him blankly and then she rushed towards him and picked him off his feet. She slammed him back against the car and screamed at him, "Do you think I get to go back to normal?" Clark took a panicked step forwards and then stopped, staring. The skin on her face twitched and writhed around for a moment before settling into a look of desperation. "I can't go back. I'll be like this forever!" She was sobbing fiercely now, her entire body shaking with every word.  
  
Lex came out of his shock and shouted, "Tina, let him go!" Clark leapt past him and grabbed onto Tina's arm, trying to pry her off of him. Even though Clark was stronger than her, he couldn't risk trying to overpower her. She was holding Pete by the throat, choking him. It wouldn't take much force from either of them to wind up crippling him by accident. Still, Clark couldn't just stand by and do nothing. Pete was gasping for air, frantically trying to pry her hands off him.  
  
"Tina, let go!" Lex said again. Pete was starting to go blue and his efforts were weakening. "There might be a cure for you," he said desperately, trying to distract her, "we just have to find it!"  
  
Tina dropped Pete just as suddenly as she'd grabbed him. He collapsed against the side of the car as Clark stumbled backwards, surprised. Tina stood there silently for a moment, then sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Lex went to check on Pete quickly, but Pete pushed him away, gasping for air. He crawled over to Tina and grabbed her shoulder. She looked up slowly and all Lex and Pete could do was stare. The face of a six year old girl stared back at them. Then, before their eyes, Tina's entire body seemed to shrink in on itself, until it matched her face. Clark backed up in surprise. She actually seemed to be growing younger, the years falling off right in front of them. When it was over, her clothes hung off her loosely, like a kid playing dress-up. Even her bandages had come undone and were falling slowly off her shoulder.  
  
"Tina?" Lex asked, staring.  
  
"This is Tina Greer," she said, her voice high and child-like. "What she used to look like at least."  
  
She held up her arm, rounded and smooth, and studied it. "Ever since I was born, I was always sick, weak. There was something wrong with my bones; the doctors said I would never be able to walk. All I could do was lie in bed all day. But that was before the meteor shower."  
  
"You were exposed," Lex said quietly. Clark nodded slowly, staring at her.  
  
"I was," she smiled sadly. "A small piece crashed near our house, and my bedroom window was open. The dust came in and coated everything, me included. A few days later, it happened, I could move a little. A few weeks later I was up and running."  
  
She smiled, her child's face brightening up a little. "None of the doctors could explain it; my mom just thought it was a miracle, so did I. I could be a normal girl, just like everyone else. I could go to school, play with friends, and do everything I'd always wanted to." For a moment she seemed to be lost in those memories. Pete started to reach towards her, but then she shivered suddenly and looked up at them. What they saw in her eyes was enough to freeze all of them.  
  
"Then a year later half my face slid down the front of my body," she said hollowly.  
  
"Do you have any idea what that feels like?" she asked them, her mouth trembling. "To feel your face suddenly turn into soup and slid right off you? It's not painful at all, but you can't help screaming, can't stop screaming, even if you don't have a mouth anymore. All you can do is just go on doing it up here," she tapped her head slowly. In some ways, I've never stopped screaming up here. I can still hear it sometimes," she faded off slowly, staring into space.  
  
She came back slowly and looked at them. "First it was my face, then my arms, the bones in them disappearing; my legs twisting together like pretzels," she went on. She tilted her head to the side and let out a crazy sort of laugh. "You should have seen the look on my mom's face when she found me." She laughed again and then ducked her head down, hiding it.  
  
Lex stared at her blankly, clearly speechless. She looked up and smiled at him, an off-center, somewhat unfocused grin. "But if we win, you can cure me right? Put me back to normal. What if I told you I've forgotten what normal is?"  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, a little pale.  
  
"Could any of you put yourself back to together after that?" Tina asked them all slowly. "It took me more than two years to learn how to hold a shape again. But when I did, I couldn't go back to the way I used to look. I didn't. remember. what I looked like. All I had were pictures that were two years old. And even then, I can't look like that forever. I had to guess what I'd look like." As she talked, her body slowly started to change back, growing up as it were. When it was done, Tina stared back at them sadly.  
  
"Tina Greer, the real girl, disappeared along time ago," she told them. "I forgot her. So you see, I don't have anything to go back to, not even my own body." She looked at Lex. "What are you going to cure? How can you cure it? How can any of you promise anything to me?"  
  
Clark and Lex looked at her and then glanced at each other, at a loss for words. Tina stared at them hopelessly and then shook her head. "I knew it," she said quietly.  
  
"You want a promise," Pete spoke up. They all glanced at him quickly, surprised. "I'll give you one: fear."  
  
"What?" Tina said.  
  
"You're terrified of walking into that base. Why? Because you're afraid of being caught, of being found out." Pete climbed to his feet slowly, wincing slightly. "You're afraid of that most of all," he rasped out, his voice raw sounding. "Why else would you hide your secret from us all this time?" Tina stared back at him, her eyes wild.  
  
"We're your friends, Tina. We'd be weirded out, sure, but we'd have accepted you. But that's not enough is it? You're still afraid."  
  
"Shut up," she said quietly, staring at him. Clark took a step towards her, but Lex stopped him again, watching both of them carefully.  
  
"The thing is, that fear's always going to be with you," Pete said heedless of the look in her eyes. He started to walk towards her, still talking. "If you run, if you leave us, that fear's going to follow you wherever you go, whoever you look like. But if you stay, if you help us, maybe we can help you face it. You won't have to feel alone."  
  
He stopped in front of her. Tina's hands were clenching and unclenching rhythmically as she trembled. "Even if you run now you're going to have to face it someday. Wouldn't you rather it be with us?" She stood, almost shaking with emotion, staring wildly at him. Pete waited silently, his face more calm than Clark had ever seen it.  
  
"Well, you going to slug me or what?" he asked after a moment. "I'm going to pass out if you make me stand here any longer."  
  
Slowly, her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.  
  
Pete grunted softly. He touched her shoulder tenderly. A bit of her shirt was stained red. "You're bleeding again," he told her gently. "We'll get Sarah to bandage you up, alright?" She nodded quietly. "And while we're at it, she can take a look at me too," Pete said, wincing again as he rubbed his neck. Tina reached out almost nervously and supported him.  
  
Clark watched her lead Pete away quietly. "Do you think she'll be okay?" he asked.  
  
"Pete's good with people," Lex answered. "Much better at it than I am. She'll come around."  
  
"She could die doing this."  
  
"We could all die doing this, Clark. Every last one of us." 


	28. Facades

Chapter 27  
  
"Oh God," Lana groaned from her chair. "Don't you ever get tired of this?"  
  
"Please," Clark said again, moving around to face her. "Just listen. You have to." She jerked her head to the side, looking away from him, and he moved around again to her face. It was childish and irritating and she'd been doing it for the last three hours.  
  
"I know your whole story by now," she grumbled at him. "You haven't stopped talking about it since you came in here. Your from another version of Smallville, you say I'm your friend; it's not bad, you've got imagination at least."  
  
"It's the truth," he insisted. "Look," he said, shoving the picture Lana, his Lana, had given to him just a few days ago. "That's us, me, Chloe, Pete, and you in the Talon. Look at it!"  
  
"Doctored," she sniffed, not even bothering to glance at it. She snapped her head away again.  
  
"Fine then," Clark said, his temper starting to fray. He picked up her chair and carried her over to the back of the room. Slamming it down against the wall, he moved his face down until it was a few inches from hers. She stared back at him, not wavering for a moment.  
  
"When you were a little girl, your parents used to take you to the Talon to watch cartoons with them. Your parents met when your mother walked out of a showing of 2001. Do I have to keep going? I know you Lana, why can't you just admit it?"  
  
"You don't know me! Stop saying that!" she screamed in response. She threw herself to the side and the chair would have fallen if Clark hadn't been holding it up. She rocked back and forth screaming at him incoherently as he held onto the chair. Finally he slammed the chair back against the wall and stormed backwards, his teeth grinding together in irritation.  
  
"Fine. Fine!" he had to scream to make himself heard over her. "You want to be like this fine, but I'm not leaving. I can wait this out," he promised her. He leaned against the wall and stared at her. She quieted down and glared back at him from under her tangled and disheveled hair. It had been a little less than a day since they'd brought her in, but she already looked like she'd been held for weeks. "I can wait," Clark said again.  
  
The door opened slightly and Pete leaned in. He barely gave Lana a glance before he waved for Clark. "Come'on," he said simply and stepped back out of the room. Clark hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly followed after him. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Lana. She was smirking at him carelessly. Clark tried to say something, but nothing came, so he shut the door quietly behind him.  
  
Chloe was lying curled up on two chairs outside the cell, sound asleep. He smiled a little as he saw her. Two of Pete's people were standing there as well, leaning against the wall. Both of them were carrying rifles. As they saw him, they straightened up nervously and waited, eying him. Conscious of their stares, Clark glanced down the hall and saw Pete waiting for him.  
  
"What's the matter?" he asked quickly as he walked towards him. "Did something happen?"  
  
"No, everything's fine so far. I just wanted to get you out of there for a bit," Pete shrugged. He rubbed the back of his neck and said frankly, "You've been at it for hours. Give it a rest, you're not going to make her change her entire life in one day, you know."  
  
"I don't have a lot of time left," he remarked. "We're starting this in what. a few days?"  
  
"Tonight," Pete admitted quietly as Clark followed him through the base.  
  
Clark stopped short. "Tonight, but Lex hasn't even."  
  
"Lex has already left. He set up everything last night. Aside from a few small things to take care of, we're good to go."  
  
"Lex is gone?"  
  
"A few hours ago," Pete responded. "He can't keep his dad waiting forever. He said he'd been gone too long as it is."  
  
"Do you think he'll suspect anything?"  
  
"From what Lex has told me, I'd be surprised if he didn't, but he seemed confident he could throw him off."  
  
"You don't seem that way," Clark said, glancing at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Confident," he explained. Pete stopped and looked at him, shrugging slightly.  
  
"Hey, I know what kind of odds we're against. Something goes wrong, or there's something we didn't think of, this could go south real quick. But Lex has enough to worry about without me pulling him down on this. So if he needs a cheerleader, then I'm there for him. Doesn't mean I'm not terrified like the rest of us," he grumbled, continuing on. Pete led him into a smaller room off to the side of the main floor. Tina was seated at a table inside, photos and sheets of paper spread out all around her. She looked up briefly as they entered and then sank back down dejectedly. Clark smiled at her, but then his attention was turned to the far side of the room. In the corner there was a closed circuit TV balanced precariously on a rusty metal table. Clark stared at the screen until he realized it was a direct shot of Lana's cell. He could see her tied to the chair in the center of the screen.  
  
"How's it coming?" Pete was asking Tina.  
  
She shrugged. "It's boring reading, if my stomach wasn't doing flip flops I'd probably nod off."  
  
"You'll be fine," he promised her. He squeezed her uninjured shoulder briefly and she gave him a wan smile. "You're not alone in this."  
  
"Are you videotaping her?" Clark broke in suddenly. He pointed at the screen. "How long has that been on?"  
  
"Its closed-circuit, not video. And we've been watching long enough to wish the mute button still worked," Pete said. "You didn't think we were just going to let her out of our sight, did you? She's dangerous, Clark, maybe even doubly for you," he added.  
  
"Why is that?" Clark asked him testily.  
  
"'Cause you don't realize she is," he told him. "I mean, how many times do you have to get shot for it to sink in? The girl doesn't want to talk, or make up, or make out." She wants to kill you, or better yet, drag your ass to LuthorCorp and let them gut you in the name of science."  
  
"She's not like that," Clark warned him. "They did this to her, she's not. I'd never even believe she was capable of."  
  
"She's pulled a lot of triggers, Clark," Pete said frankly. "I'd say she's capable of it." Clark glared at him and Pete stared back, stonily. Tina coughed suddenly and both of them stepped back as they glanced at her. She continued reading without missing a beat. Clark looked down, feeling a little awkward and turned one of the photos around on the table. It was a picture of Lana, taken a few years ago by any indication. She was wearing a white hospital gown and staring dejectedly at the camera. He looked at the other photos and saw that they were all of Lana as well.  
  
"What is all this?" he asked, confused.  
  
"Lana's life story," Tina remarked. "Everything from her parents to what she likes on her eggs. Lex pulled it up for me."  
  
"I guess it helps to know who you're impersonating," Pete said slowly, glancing over the sheets of paper.  
  
"If we want to pull this off, that is."  
  
"How are you going to memorize all this by tonight, Tina?" Clark asked.  
  
She smiled a little. "I have a good memory, almost photographic. It helps when you have to fake what a person looks like from a single glance. Though really, there's not a lot to go on here. In and out of schools, a lot of martial arts training, lots of therapy, and I mean that in the most liberal sense of the word." She made a disgusted face. "She's had a lot of people crawling around inside her head."  
  
"Too bad they couldn't find what made her so fucked up," Pete remarked, idly going over the pages.  
  
"I don't think they were trying to fix her," Tina said quietly, "more like make sure she stayed broken."  
  
"Is that sympathy I hear?" Pete asked, raising an eyebrow. "She shot you, remember? Don't tell me you're starting to go in with Clark here."  
  
"It was easier to hate her when I didn't have to be in her head," Tina admitted. She held up one of the papers. "There's a lot of schools and tutors here, and not a lot else. I mean, I didn't have much, but I had my mom, and maybe a few other people," she trailed off quietly for a moment, then went on, , "but Lana, I don't think she ever had anyone who cared about her."  
  
"I thought Lionel was sweet on her," Pete smirked. "At least that's the impression Lex gave me."  
  
"Lana wouldn't." Clark started  
  
"I don't know," Tina shrugged. "If he is, he's got a funny way of showing it. You know she's on seven different medications? All with a name as long as my arm. I think they're supposed to be sedatives or something."  
  
Pete made a face and glanced at the screen. "You mean this is her doped up? God help us when they wear off."  
  
"It's not funny," Tina told him. He looked back at her, more than a little confused. "She's got a lot of hurt locked up inside of her," she said, trying to explain herself. "Maybe because she doesn't think she has anything else."  
  
"The files say all that?" Pete asked her a little incredulously.  
  
"No, I got it from watching her. Body language; the way she talks and answers questions, how she acts, it's all there."  
  
"Didn't know you'd get that much from her," Pete admitted, sounding impressed.  
  
"It's not just her face I've got to fake after all. And speaking of which," she said getting up. She closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate, and then slowly the skin on her face started to flex and ripple around. Pete frowned a little, but didn't turn away as she changed gradually. Neither did Clark. When it was over, Tina was gone and Lana stood in her place. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked herself over, pulling her shirt down slightly. She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat.  
  
"What is it? You mess up?" Pete asked.  
  
"No, I just forgot Lana's a few inches taller than I am," she said in Lana's voice. She tugged at her t-shirt, which was now showing a great deal of skin above her belly button. "There goes my photographic memory claim," she grumbled.  
  
Clark stared at her and then swallowed dryly. "You look good," he said slowly, feeling a sudden stab of homesickness. Maybe it was seeing Lana out of a uniform, but it had jarred something in him. When he'd been talking to Lana before, it had been hard to hold onto the girl he remembered, especially when her alternative was so different.  
  
"I'll pass along the complement," Tina said dryly.  
  
"I have to ask," Pete spoke up. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what does it."  
  
"What does it feel like?" she half-smiled at him. She touched her face briefly and sighed. "You don't want to know." Then she squared her shoulders. "It's not complete yet." Giving her shirt a final tug, she left the room, with Pete and Clark following after her. Surprisingly, she led them back to Lana's cell. Even more surprisingly, when they got there, Whitney was standing in front of the door.  
  
He saw Tina coming towards him and seemed to freeze in place. So did she. The guards at the door jumped to their feet, glancing inside the cell in shock. "Whoa," Pete jumped ahead of them, raising his hands. "It's alright. It's just Tina. Calm down." The guards stared at him and slowly lowered their guns. Whitney was still standing frozen, staring at her. "It's Tina, man," Pete told him quietly, grasping his arm.  
  
"I know it's her," he said throatily, staring at her. Tina was staring at the floor, refusing to look at him. Clark touched her shoulder lightly, trying to comfort her. She didn't respond, but she seemed to turn towards him a little.  
  
"Uh, I just got a message from Lex on a secure line," Whitney said, clearing his throat. "He wants us to be ready to move in four hours. That's when Clark goes in."  
  
"He's stepping it up," Pete remarked, frowning.  
  
Too busy staring at Tina; Whitney didn't seem particularly troubled by the news. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"How'd he sound?" Pete asked. "Worried?"  
  
Whitney blinked and looked at Pete. He shrugged. "He sounded fine. Just said we should hurry."  
  
Pete frowned, thinking, and then shrugged. "Guess we move in four hours then," he sighed. "Make sure everyone's ready," he nodded to Whitney.  
  
"Uh, sure. Sure," he said, giving Tina one last glance. He started away slowly, his head hanging down.  
  
Pete looked after him and then at Clark and Tina. "You two going to be ready by then?"  
  
"Ready as I'll ever be," Tina said quietly. Clark nodded.  
  
"There's not much I can do to get ready," he admitted. "I barely know what I'm walking into."  
  
"Second thoughts?" Pete asked.  
  
"No use having them when I don't have a choice."  
  
Pete nodded slowly. He glanced down at Chloe, still asleep, and then back up at Clark. "You know, maybe there are a few things you should take care of before you go," he said quietly. Clark looked down at her and nodded his head slightly. Pete smiled and looked at Tina. "Tina?"  
  
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Lana glanced up from inside the cell and stiffened up at she caught sight of them. Tina stepped inside and walked forward until she was standing in front of her. Clark swallowed dryly. It was surreal seeing the two of them together. Pete whistled to himself and shook his head. "Damn," he muttered.  
  
"Do you think you're really going to fool anyone like that?" Lana hissed. Tina smiled slight and knelt down, until she was on eye level with her. She started to reach out towards Lana, but she flinched away violently. "Get her away from me. I don't want her touching me."  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you," Tina told her quietly. She reached out again and despite Lana's protests, took hold of her head. She leaned in closer and said, "I just need to look at your eyes for a moment." Lana promptly shut hers tight. Tina laughed quietly. "Don't be childish. It's not going to hurt, and you really don't have any choice in the matter. Now either open your eyes or I'll have to pry them open myself," she said matter-of-factly. "I can do it," she added. "Very easily."  
  
Lana opened her eyes again and stared back at her. Tina smiled again and placed her hands on Lana's temples, moving her head slightly forwards. Lana didn't resist at all, but she kept her eyes on Tina the whole time. Tina smiled at her and tilted her head a little. "Thank you." Lana stared back at her flatly, waiting.  
  
Tina gazed into her eyes for a moment, frowning slightly as she concentrated. Neither girl moved for a full minute, hardly even blinking. Then finally, Tina leaned back and stood up. "It's done," she told Pete and Clark. Glancing back at Lana, she hesitated and then said, "I'm sorry this has to be this way. Maybe someday, you'll understand why we're doing this."  
  
"Next time, I won't aim to wound," Lana replied coldly. The compassionate look flew off Tina's face like it had been slapped away. She stared in shock at Lana, her mouth slightly open. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I hope you can understand why," Lana finished.  
  
"I think we've got enough here," Pete spoke up. He took Tina's shoulder and guided her towards the door. She moved slowly, glancing back at Lana once. Lana stared back at her and then looked away at the wall, ignoring all of them completely.  
  
"Forget about her," Pete said as they left the cell. "She's not getting out of there."  
  
"He's right," Clark told Tina. She looked up at him and nodded a little. "She's not thinking straight. She doesn't know what she's saying." Pete rolled his eyes, but Tina nodded again.  
  
"Did you get what you were after?" Pete asked. "We can pull this off?"  
  
Tina took a breath and then gave a hesitant smile. "I think now, maybe we can," she said slowly. "If I can fool the retinal scanners, I should be able to fool everyone."  
  
The door crashed open to Lex's office, rebounding off the wall with a shudder. Lionel caught it with one hand and shoved it back as he stormed inside, snarling in spite of himself. Lex, sitting at his desk, glanced up slowly, smiling a little as he saw his father. He waved to one of the chairs in front of his desk lazily as he leaned back in his own. His father chose instead to stand over his desk, staring down at him, practically quivering with anger.  
  
"I was just going over my mail," Lex said lightly, lifting up a thin stack of papers and shuffling through them. "Nothing too interesting, I'm afraid. Oliver Queen did invite us to another of his Caribbean pleasure cruises though. Do you want to turn him down, or should I?" he asked conversationally. "Shame though, he might have something interesting this year. We could always pray for a shipwreck."  
  
"I'm only going to ask this once, Lex," his father said in a tight, controlled voice. "How long did you think this would fool me?" Lex looked up at him, vaguely curious. "A paternity suit, really. I'm disappointed in you."  
  
"I didn't have much time to make up a better one," Lex admitted, smiling a bit. "For curiosity's sake, how long did it fool you?"  
  
Lionel relaxed a bit and leered at his son. "Two hours, that's how long it took for me to get your lawyers to admit they didn't know anything about a paternity suit." He shook his head in mock-sadness. "You should really hire better people, Lex. I could recommend a number of good law firms."  
  
"I think by definition any firm you would recommend wouldn't be a good one," Lex remarked.  
  
Lionel smiled warmly, and then just as suddenly he was all business again. "Where were you really, Lex?" he demanded.  
  
Lex gazed at his father and judged his mood. No matter how much he might have despised his father, he had studied him obsessively over the years, and he knew the intricate twists of his father's mind. He was angry with him, but perhaps not as angry as his father made out. He was also curious, but perhaps not as curious as Lex needed him to be. That was the key to turning him off of this. He needed to arouse his father's natural curiosity, and his suspicion.  
  
"I was out," Lex said as insolently as he could manage. He watched the sides of his father's neck flush red and had to fight to keep himself from smiling. He'd never pushed his father this much before, and he still needed to go further. Worse yet, he'd never imagined how much he'd enjoy it. If he didn't watch himself carefully, he could end up wrecking everything very quickly.  
  
"Out?" his father repeated softly, almost as if to himself. "I'm sorry that this is so boring for you, Lex, that you felt the need to step out for a while," he continued in the same soft tone. "Maybe next time, I'll have to have something more important for you to do then locate a missing alien."  
  
"I don't see why you're so upset," Lex shrugged. He went back to sorting through his mail. "I wasn't gone for that long, and I did come back."  
  
"And a more relieved father, you will never find. But I would still like to know where you were."  
  
Lex looked up at him, hard pressed to keep a smile off his face. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"  
  
The silence was nearly paltpable in the air as father and son stared at each other. Then Lionel broke it by laughing quietly. "Oh, Lex, Lex, Lex," he sighed, still chuckling. Lex smiled at him, not saying a thing. Sinking into a chair, his father wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head. "So you're finally going to make your move, are you? This is no false alarm or bit of childish rebellion, this is the real thing, isn't it? Well, you couldn't have picked a more appropriate time for it. The company's threatened, I'm distracted, there's not much standing in your way."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Lex said innocently.  
  
"Oh don't be coy," his father said, amused. "I've been grooming you for this since I brought you on board. You wouldn't be fit to run this company after me if you couldn't take it in the first place." He laughed again. "And to think, I was worried you might not have learned anything from me."  
  
"I don't think anyone could ever teach me more than you have," Lex told him, realizing as he said it, how true it was. "About business, life, and myself."  
  
His father blinked and then smiled, seeming genuinely flattered. To cover his momentary embarrassment, he remarked, "So how will you do it, I wonder? What way will you come after me?"  
  
"If I were to do something like that," Lex pretended to suppose, "it would probably be in a way you'd never suspect."  
  
"Surprise is the best weapon in war," his father agreed. "But experience can be a deadly tool as well." He gazed at Lex for a moment. "So when do you begin?"  
  
As if on cue, there was a steady beeping sound from his coat pocket. Lionel glanced down at it and then up at Lex. He chuckled slightly and reached into his jacket, pulling out a cell phone. "Yes?" he asked quietly. He listened silently for a few moments and then nodded. "I see. I'll be there in a few minutes." He closed the phone slowly and put it back into his jacket, smiling all the while. Lex watched him all the while, hardly moving.  
  
"It appears that our good Attorney General has issued a subpoena for most of our company records. And it's surely a coincidence that our Board of Directors has also made itself unavailable for comment."  
  
"Surely," Lex agreed.  
  
"Of course I'll have to deal with this myself; it's much too important to leave to an aide," his father continued. "So of course, you'll have to be left in charge here."  
  
"If you feel I'm up to it," Lex shrugged.  
  
His father smiled at that. "Well, there's not much left to say, is there? You've made your move, it's up to me to respond. We'll just have to see if you're ready for it." He got up slowly and started to leave. As he reached the door, he stopped and turned back though.  
  
"There's one thing I have to ask though, first. Lana. Her disappearance wouldn't have anything to do with this, would it?" his father asked slowly, studying Lex with half-lidded eyes.  
  
"Truthfully, I had nothing to do with Lana's disappearance," Lex admitted. His father studied him carefully for a moment.  
  
"Yes, well, I'm sure you're just as devastated about it as I am," he said finally. "She has come to mean a lot to us, hasn't she?" he asked, his expression softening. "Almost like part of the family."  
  
"And we all know what a privelage that is," Lex said dryly. His father laughed and gazed at him.  
  
"No matter what you may feel, Lex, when it's all said and done, you'll always be a Luthor; and my son. Never forget that." He paused. "We have a lot more in common then you may care to admit."  
  
Lex frowned slightly as his father turned around and left, the door swinging shut behind him. After a moment, he rose and opened the side door to his personal executive wash room. Loosening his tie and shrugging off his jacket, he turned to stare into the large mirror over the sink. He gazed back at his reflection for a moment, and then opened one of the side drawers, rummaging around for a moment. Finally he pulled out an electric razor and held it up, staring at his reflection once more. He could see a tiny smile creeping over his face in the mirror. Clicking on the razor, he raised it up to his hair and started to laugh. 


	29. The First Visitor

Chapter 28  
  
Pete took the truck across the second field in a row, cutting through the grass to avoid roadblocks and watched intersections. Chloe moaned a little and Clark braced himself again. It was an old truck and apparently had nothing in the way of shocks since they could feel every stone and furrow they drove over. And since they were trying to remain undetected, Pete had left the headlights off, which made the bouncing, jarring trip across the field that much more never racking.  
  
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Clark asked nervously as he strained his eyes forwards, watching out for the first sign of any ditch or abandoned bit of farm equipment which might have ended their trip in a hurry. And with the sky full of thick clouds, there wasn't even a hint of the moon to see by. As it was, Clark could only make out things a few feet in front of the truck. He shuddered to think of how far Pete could see.  
  
"Relax," Pete said quietly, not taking his eyes off the ground in front of them. "Besides, aren't you invulnerable? What are you worried about?"  
  
"Not all of us in here are," Chloe snapped. She was sitting wedged in between Clark and Pete, looking none too happy as the car bounced wildly again.  
  
"Yeah, and somehow wrapping this truck around someone's old thresher doesn't seem like the best way to keep LuthorCorp from finding us," Clark agreed.  
  
Instead of slowing down, Pete actually accelerate a little. Clark's stomach lurched as the truck bounced over another dip. "I thought that was the entire idea behind this trip," Pete remarked.  
  
"You know what I mean," Clark snapped at him.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, I've taken this route before and it's the safest way. No one's going to expecting us, well you at least, to come driving into town, now are they? So just sit down and relax, already."  
  
"Yeah, like that's possible," Chloe snapped at him. Then she winced and glanced at Clark, but he refused to look at her. He was having a hard enough time trying to keep his nerves under control as it was, trying not to think about what they were about to do.  
  
The truck screeched to a halt suddenly, throwing Clark and Chloe forwards. While Clark managed to brace himself, Chloe made a gasping sound as her seatbelt caught her and threw her back against the seat. Coughing, she glared at Pete as she unbuckled herself. "We're here," Pete said laconically, ignoring her.  
  
"Think we noticed," she grumbled. Pete pushed the door open and jumped out, jogging a few steps forwards. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and swept them back and forth across the horizon. Chloe swung herself out the door, standing on the edge of the cab and staring over his head. Clark climbed out slowly, looking forwards as well.  
  
They were at the edge of an old cornfield, parked behind a derelict shed. The field skirted the road on the other side, and down that, not even half a mile, was Smallville. Clark could just make out the outline of the courthouse and the Talon, illuminated by lights in town, from where he was standing. This far away, he realized, it didn't look that different from home. But past town, another half a mile down this same road, was something that was not just like home. LuthorCorp Labs. He shivered in the warm night air in spite of himself. He saw Chloe glance at him worriedly, but he still couldn't bring himself to look at her. What am I doing here, he thought suddenly. This is way over my head, I should just get back in the truck and get the hell out of here. He'd never done anything like this before, anything this dangerous. He was about to walk right into the lions' den and there was no guarantee he'd be able to walk out again. He could wind up just like his brother, or his mother.  
  
Okay, run then, he told himself. Get out of here and don't look back. But before you do, ask yourself, who else is going to do this? Who else is there?  
  
Clark wasn't a coward, but he didn't consider himself brave either. He didn't go looking for trouble, like Bruce did, but he wasn't one to run from it either. If trouble happened and he did get involved, it was just because, he reasoned with himself, well, because there was no one else who could stop it. It was this same reasoning that drove him forwards now. Who else is going to get them out, he asked himself.  
  
"The road looks clean," Pete said quietly. He lowered the binoculars and glanced back at them. "I can't spot any patrols, but you should still be careful."  
  
"Why, they're going to catch me anyways. Or wasn't that the entire reason for this trip?" Clark tried to sound flippant.  
  
Pete didn't smile back. "I mean it, man," he said. "Be careful."  
  
Clark walked around the front of the truck and took Pete's shoulder. Squeezing it gently, he tried to think of something reassuring to say, but nothing seemed to come. He settled for just nodding and giving Pete what he hoped was a steady smile. He could feel Chloe staring at him, but he avoided her eyes for now. Pete exhaled loudly and shook his head. As he stuffed the binoculars back in his jacket, he muttered, "Braver than I am, Clark."  
  
Taken aback for a moment, Clark shrugged. "Are you guys going to be okay getting back?" he asked trying to cover his embarrassment.  
  
"Yeah, we'll be fine. They won't be looking for us anymore, once they have- , well." his voice trailed off. Clark did smile then, albeit glumly.  
  
"Clark." Chloe said quietly behind him. He winced and turned around slowly, bracing himself for the worst. He was expecting a stormy tirade, some angry speech telling him to think things over, but again, just as she always seemed to do, Chloe surprised him. She was standing on the edge of the cab, staring down at him with tears in her eyes. Letting go of the truck, she fell down into his arms and latched onto him in a fierce hug. Clark blinked, surprised, and then hugged her back gently.  
  
"You're going to do this no matter what I say, aren't you?" she asked into his chest, her voice muffled.  
  
"I don't have any choice," he said.  
  
She pulled back and looked up at him, her chin pressed against his chest. "There are always other choices."  
  
Clark looked down at her sadly and said, "I've tried those other ways. They don't fix anything, Chloe. They never do." She stared up at him in confusion. "I've got to go," he told her quietly and started to pull away, but she clung to him suddenly and buried her face in his chest.  
  
"Come back," she said. "Just come back. That's all I'm asking." She looked up at him. "Please." Then she let go of him and ran back to the truck, facing away from him and not looking back.  
  
Clark could have covered the half mile into town in an instant, but instead he chose to walk up the dusty road, his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his head hung low. Not a single car passed him and there wasn't the slightest hint of anything moving in the fields or woods along the road. The night was utterly quiet and empty except for the slow falls of his feet on the pavement. He'd never felt more alone in all his life then. It was just him, alone, on this road and in this world. No home, no family, just a handful of people he barely knew and his memories. Was that all he had, he wondered, and as he did, he felt a terrible sadness well up inside of him.  
  
Overhead, the clouds parted momentarily, and Clark stopped, craning his head up to see the stars. They shone out brilliantly, dazzling the heavens above him. A strange sort of melancholic comfort fell over him as he watched the stars. Even if he was on a different version of the earth he knew, the stars were still the same in the sky. He could trace the constellations out, seeing old familiar shapes. Then the thick clouds rolled in again and Clark was shrouded in darkness once more. He sighed and continued down the road.  
  
The shops and businesses were all closed up when he reached town; even the bars, and there were a lot more than Clark remembered, had all closed their doors. He glanced up and down the street, seeing the filth covering the sidewalks and the graffiti on the walls. It made him sick to see his town reduced to this. For a moment, doubt started to creep in and he asked himself, was all this really his fault? Had his ship landing in town rather than the fields outside caused all of this destruction? Then he looked up and saw Lionel Luthor's face smiling down at him from a poster plastered to the window of a shop. 'Another proud member of the LuthorCorp community' it read.  
  
No, Clark answered himself. It wasn't his fault. Maybe his ship had caused more damage coming into the town, but this, the filth and the pain here today, that wasn't his fault. It was Lionel Luthor's, he thought grimly. It all comes back to Lionel, all the pain, all the betrayal. He was the one who had wanted all of this. He had caused it and he was going to answer for it.  
  
Clark took hold of a mailbox set into the street and with one hand, ripped it out of its mooring, and with one clean motion chucked it at the poster of Lionel in the window. The glass exploded inwards with a satisfying crash and an alarm started to ring inside the shop. Clark smiled, listening to the noise. Walking over to a bench, he ripped that out of the ground too and flung it through another window. Alarms were starting to go off all over the street. From far off, he could hear sirens wailing, heading closer.  
  
"Here we go," he muttered to himself.  
  
Lex almost couldn't stop himself from springing out of the elevator doors as they slowly opened. Stay calm, he cautioned himself. Now isn't the time to be overexcited.  
  
Not that anyone would have noticed his enthusiasm, indeed, there didn't seem to be anyone on the main floor of the labs who wasn't panicking. Aides and technicians were scurrying around readouts and reports in hand; the guards were all nervously holding their weapons at the side of the room; and in the very center of it all, eight men were carrying in a coffin- shaped cage, grunting from the weight. An entire squad of 'Corp's soldiers was accompanying them in, their weapons aimed tensely at the cage. Not helping anything was Dr. Hamilton, practically beside himself as he tried to simultaneously study the monitor attached to the cage and guide it onto the motorized cart the men where moving towards.  
  
"For the love of God, be careful with that," he yelled as the cage banged against the side of the cart. "It's already damaged enough without you idiots ramming it into everything." He started waving his hands from side to side, trying to position them so that the cage was in line above the cart. "There, finally," he said and lowered his hands. With a sigh of relief, the carriers dropped it and the cage fell onto the cart with a loud slam, setting off another fit of screaming from Hamilton.  
  
"Go, get out of here, all of you!" he bellowed, waving them away as he pushed past them. "Idiots, morons," he muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. The carriers gave him ugly looks, but Hamilton was too engrossed in his study of the cage to notice. As the carriers dispersed, lab technicians and aide began to swarm in, taking readings and flocking around Dr. Hamilton.  
  
"Is it damaged?" someone asked, craning to see.  
  
"Probably, but it's impossible to say for certain just now," Hamilton replied loudly, straightening up. He nodded at a pair of aides. "We should be able to do an almost complete series of scans while it's still in the cage. Plug it into the network and see what you can come up with. I need to know what its status is as of ten minutes ago. Hurry." They nodded and ran off as Hamilton continued issuing more orders.  
  
Lex stared at the containment box for a moment, worrying. It was impossible to tell how badly Clark was hurt from here, but there had been no other recourse. The only way Clark could get into the labs was in that box, he reminded himself grimly. They could only hope now that the 'Corps hadn't injured him too badly in the process.  
  
"Hasn't anyone contacted Mr. Luthor yet?" Hamilton asked loudly, jerking Lex back to his senses.  
  
Shoving aside his worry, he stepped through the chaos on the floor towards them. "I'm already here," he assured them casually, his eyes on the cage.  
  
"Thank God. We've finally found it." Hamilton started to say when he trailed off, staring at him. Lex fought to keep a smile off his face as realized how strange he must look. He was dressed much more casually than he usually was, in a simple shirt and slacks, but that didn't seem to be what Hamilton was staring at. What had gotten his attention was that Lex had shaved his head completely, even going so far as to trim off his eyebrows.  
  
He let Hamilton flounder for a moment, savoring it, and then he gestured at the cage. "I assume that's something of interest then? Or is this just another drill."  
  
"Uh, no, Lex," Hamilton recovered shakily. "I think we should wait for your father-"  
  
"My father isn't here," Lex cut him off. "And so, for the moment, I am Mr. Luthor." Hamilton stared at him blankly. "I have full power in my father's absence, Doctor, and his full consent. So again, what exactly did you find?"  
  
"The. the alien, Lex. sir," he stammered. He glanced at the cage and seemed to recover some of his footing. "The 'Corps captured him in town a short while ago. They just brought him in now." He spun around to another aide and began barking out orders. "We need to initiate a full security lock down, as soon as we secure the alien, we secure the base; no one leaves or arrives without the proper permission."  
  
"And just where are you going to put him?" Lex asked almost casually. The question seemed to freeze the Doctor up again.  
  
"We have the spare containment cell," he stammered after a moment.  
  
"Which will be ready in three months time," Lex answered promptly. "We only started building it a few days ago," he remarked, seeing the look on Hamilton's face. "You didn't expect us to just produce something of that magnitude overnight, did you?" He treasured the look of confusion and panic on Hamilton's face for a moment and then played him out some more.  
  
"What about the cage there?" he asked, pointing at it behind them. "Could it hold him until we have the cell ready?"  
  
Hamilton blanched and gave the cage another panicked glance. "Not a chance; it's only for transportation, and even then we have to sedate the alien heavily. No, we need to get him contained as soon as possible."  
  
"How long do we have then till he wakes up?"  
  
"No way of knowing," Hamilton admitted, looking a little ill. "We haven't had a chance to study him yet so we don't have him sedated. If he's too weak and we use too much, he could." he trailed off. "He doesn't look to badly injured though," he concluded. "There still might be internal bleeding though, it's hard to tell. From what I can see, we have maybe, two hours, maybe more."  
  
"Or less," Lex said dryly. Hamilton nodded reluctantly. "So where can we put him them? Don't tell me we'll have to turn him loose and tell him to come back in three months?"  
  
Hamilton thought for a moment, and then swallowed visibly, clearly distressed. "We'll have to contain it in the same cell as the first one." He looked like he could hardly believe he had just said the words. Lex could hardly keep himself from smiling. Turning to the grouped aides, Hamilton said, "Make sure we they have a set of the cuffs waiting by the cell. Make sure the first subject is subdued as well. Stun him if you have to." He turned back to Lex and looked at him helplessly. "There's a problem though, I'll need authorization to put them together like this."  
  
"Then you have it, Doctor," Lex told him, but Hamilton shook his head.  
  
"No, I'm afraid that's not good enough. I can't open the doors to the cell without the express consent of Mr. Luthor or his chief of security."  
  
"Then as the man said, you have it, Doctor," Lana's voice rang out behind them. Lex turned almost idly as Lana walked into the room, or rather, as Tina Greer did. She stalked past Lex without giving him a glance and went straight to the cage. He could see her lips curl in disgust as she bent over, examining it. She apes her almost perfectly, Lex thought to himself with a trace of amusement. He admired her for a moment and was a little surprised to notice how beautiful Lana was. Too bad the real version's a raving psychotic, he thought. I can almost see why Clark's so infatuated with her.  
  
"Which team brought him in?" she snapped at Hamilton. "Where's the report?"  
  
"Uh, I'll get that to you as soon as I see it. Did you mean it?" he asked, distracted. "You want us to put them together?"  
  
"Where do you suggest we put him?" she demanded acidly. "A broom closet?" She snorted and stood up, taking a commanding stance. "The way I see it, we have two choices: we can either stand around and argue until that thing wakes up and I have to kill it, or we can put it in the cell and I get to it later. Personally, I wouldn't mind the first, but I have orders, so I suggest we get moving." She snapped her fingers at two aides. "Get this thing out of my sight. You all, follow them," she said to the armed escort.  
  
Everyone, even Lex, was surprised in the command in her voice. Within moments, the cage was on the move again, flanked by the LuthorCorps guards and a few aides. Hamilton stayed behind for a moment to talk to Lex.  
  
"Um. Lex," he started hesitantly, "it's all well and good that you're in charge here, but we need to contact your father as soon as possible. God knows why he got called away now, but with a situation like this."  
  
"I've already called my father, Doctor, and he's well aware of what's happening," he assured him. "As soon as he's able, he'll be here, I promise you. In the meantime, we need to get the current situation under control. We wouldn't want my father to come back to a catastrophe, would we?"  
  
Hamilton nodded slowly. "Yes, yes you're right." He looked down the corridor towards the labs. Well, there are a million things I need to take care of right now. I'll call you in the hour with a better report on the second one's condition."  
  
"Forward it to my office," Lex said, "I'll be working in there. I've got to prepare my own report for my father."  
  
He nodded and started off, but stopped after he'd gone a few steps. "By the way, um, that's an. interesting look for you," he said, glancing quickly at Lex's bald head.  
  
Lex nodded briefly and smiled as Hamilton walked off. When he was sure he was gone, he looked at Lana. "Well, what do you think? It is a bit extreme, but I have to admit, it looks good on me."  
  
"Why in God's name would you do that to yourself before we started this?" she hissed at him in a low voice. "I thought after we spent so much time trying to make me look like Lana you would have at least made sure you looked like yourself."  
  
"I wanted a change," he shrugged, still smiling. "I talked to Clark and found out my other wears it this way."  
  
"Good for him," she said shortly.  
  
"He also betrayed his father and beat him at his own game a few times. So call this a little bit of good luck, if you want." His smiled again, and then he was all business.  
  
"So where do we stand now?"  
  
"We're all in and alive, so far," she said quietly. "I haven't had much time to work yet, but I've jammed a few of the armory doors shut like you showed me."  
  
"Good. If we can lock those down then the Corps will be cut off from any of their heavy ordinance, including their meteor powered weapons. Do you remember what I said about reorganizing shifts and closing off the barracks?"  
  
"Every word," she replied.  
  
"Then let's lock in as many people as we can." He reached into his pocket and tossed her a small, black cell phone. "I just put a nasty little bug in the LuthorCorp mainframe that will tie up all the phone lines. It'll take our tech department hours to sort through it. Also, someone seems to have played havoc with all our towers, so you might have trouble using a cell phone that's run by our service, which oddly enough, seems to include everyone in this building. No one's going to reaching us for a very long time," he smiled.  
  
"Everyone has a LuthorCorp phone?" she looked surprised.  
  
"It was part of our benefit package," he smiled innocently. "Who do you think wrote it? In the meanwhile, if you do need to contact me, use this. It's separate, the number's programmed in."  
  
She nodded glumly at him.  
  
"Hey, Tina," he said, bending in close to her and lowering his voice. "We've planned this all out, now we just have to do it. We'll win, I know we will," he assured her. "Nothing is going to go wrong."  
  
Clark woke up in a haze of pain and nausea. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his vision, but everything was still just a blur of white. He closed them again, waiting for the dull ringing in his head to stop.  
  
When he was finally able to raise his head without almost retching, he opened his eyes and stared around. He was in a large room with a high, slanted ceiling. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all pristine white, so much so that the effect was almost blinding. There was something strange about the air as well. He took a breath and his head started to swim again. Fighting it back, he started to get up, but as his arms began to move, he felt something attached to his wrists. He lifted one hand up and saw there was some kind of thick metal shackle on it. He turned his other hand over and saw another one, and then he looked down and saw a pair on his feet as well. He grabbed hold of one and started to pull, but a voice suddenly spoke up, stopping him cold.  
  
"Don't," it said in a wavering croak. "They'll pump this room full of gas if you try and remove them. I've tried."  
  
There was another person sitting against the wall at the end of the room. He was wearing a ragged pair of pants and a shirt that might have been as white as the walls once, long ago. The same shackles were encircling his wrists and ankles as well. He was young looking, with wild black hair that hung over his eyes. He smiled a dangerous, wavering sort of grin.  
  
"There's not a lot they don't punish," he said in his strange voice again. Clark had heard his own voice on a recording once, and he remembered how odd it had sounded. He had the same feeling now, only about a million times stronger.  
  
"If you try and take off the cuffs, they punish you. You make a lot of noise, they punish you. Get up and move around too much, they punish you. If you want to do anything, ask me. I'll tell you if it's safe or not."  
  
It was his face that had shocked Clark the worst, because it was his own face staring back at him, except, it wasn't. They had the same nose, the same chin, and cheek-bones, but they didn't have the same eyes. Clark still had both of his.  
  
A thin metal band crossed the young man's head, with a metal patch attached that covered his left eye. Clark could only stare at it in horror. He felt his stomach start to heave as the young man tilted his face, making the patch wink in the light at him. He tried to look at his good eye, but what he saw there wasn't any better. There was intensity there and a wild desperation that he'd never seen in his own eyes. It was like looking into a mirror, a very dark and dangerous one.  
  
Lex never told me about this, Clark thought for one panicked moment, and then his stomach heaved again and he retched over the floor.  
  
His double didn't seem to mind. He stared at Clark intently, hardly even blinking. "I'll help you out," he croaked again, "but you've got to do one thing for me first. Tell me if you're real or not." 


	30. Joseph

Chapter 29  
  
"Well," he said after a moment. "Are you real? 'Cause if I'm going mad now, I don't want to be the last to know about it." He smiled in a knife-like flash.  
  
Clark stared at him and swallowed, trying to ignore the taste in his mouth. "You're not," he said in a hoarse voice. "I'm real."  
  
"Oh. Good," he said dispassionately. He put his chin on his arms and went on studying Clark. He seemed completely engrossed by him. Clark could hardly stop staring as well.  
  
This is me; the panicked thought kept running though his mind. He's me. He can't be. No, this is wrong! This can't be happening!  
  
"Genetic sequencing, tissue samples, testing his abilities, his body chemistry. Very few of them are painless. What's been done to him is inhuman."  
  
Lex's words came back to him suddenly. He thought he'd been expecting the worst, only to find out what the worst truly was.  
  
"Who are you?" his double asked suddenly.  
  
"My name's Clark." He hesitated and then felt he had to go on. "We're brother's. in a way."  
  
He stared at Clark, his eyes going wide. "I have a brother." he said slowly.  
  
"Yeah, in a way." Clark tried to explain. "It's hard to explain." He glanced at the ceiling briefly and remembered that Lex had said it was a one way mirror of sorts used for observation. They hadn't discussed it, but Clark guessed that explaining everything to his double in front of the LuthorCorp scientists might not be a good thing. He tried to focus his eyes so he could see through it, but try as he might, the glass remained opaque. His double saw what he was doing and shook his head.  
  
"Won't work: there's lead in all the walls and ceiling. Keeps me from watching them. They don't like when I watch them." He stared at Clark intently. "I never had a brother before."  
  
"I never had one either," Clark admitted. "What's your name?"  
  
His double bowed his head and seemed to shrink into himself. "Never had one of those either. Nobody ever bothered to give me one." He frowned and then looked up, wondering. "How did you get one?"  
  
"My parents gave it to me," Clark said, surprised. He'd never even been given a name, he wondered to himself. It was such a simple thing, and he'd never even had one. "You never knew them, did you?" he asked, trailing off.  
  
He thought for a moment and then said, "How about Joseph," he suggested. "It's my middle name; Clark Joseph Kent, so maybe for you, Joseph Clark Kent. Maybe they would have picked that."  
  
"Joseph?" his double tried it out quietly. His double stared at him and then looked up nervously. He moved closer to Clark and whispered quietly, "Are you going to take me to them?" Clark stared at the helpless, desperate look in his eye and before he could think better of it, shook his head.  
  
Joseph saw it though and he let himself fall back, clearly devastated. Emotions flickered across his face, too fast to register, as he stared at his lap. "No, you're not. Of course not," he muttered sullenly and gave Clark an angry look.  
  
"No," Clark tried to explain, glancing up at the ceiling. He could just imagine the people watching them up there, taking down every word they said. "I didn't know you were here until a little while ago. I never even knew about you." Joseph avoided his eyes and stared at the floor. "And I don't know if I could take to them; I'm trying to get back to them myself."  
  
"Why did they leave me here?" his brother asked suddenly. The question stopped Clark because it was one he'd asked himself countless times before. Then even more surprisingly, he found himself able to answer.  
  
"They didn't want to; but something happened, something they couldn't control," he said quietly, the words coming from someplace deep inside of him. "And now they're gone and you're here. If they could see you, if they could talk to you, I know they'd tell you how much they loved you, and how much they wished they could be here for you." He paused and then said, "When I heard that I had a brother, that's why I came here. I've heard that's what brother's do."  
  
His double blinked in surprise and stared at him, the metal on his patch glinting. He seemed completely lost and confused by what Clark was telling him. Lex had warned him this would be the hardest part, getting his trust. Brutalized, picked apart by science, all his life, not one person showing him any affection at all; it was a wonder he was sane enough to even talk.  
  
But I guess I've got a better chance of doing it than anyone else, Clark thought as he watched him. After all, if he can't learn to trust me, who else is left?  
  
"Joseph." his brother said finally, trying it out slowly. His hand reached up to rub at the band on his face absently. "Joseph," he tried it again, and Clark was thrilled to see him smiling a little. He saw the hand go up to rub at the band again.  
  
"Does that hurt?" he asked quietly. Not able to stop himself, he reached out to touch it, but Joseph flinched away, his hand coming up wildly. They touched briefly and-  
  
Pain. Pain and noise echoing through his head, rebounding off his skull, and drilling into his ears. He could hear voices, disjointed and mixed together, babbling together incoherently.  
  
When did he start melting things by looking at him? When did that happen? I was sitting in health class and it just. happened you know. I don't know, something must have jumpstarted it! We've got to find the way to turn it on, Clark, before we can figure out how to turn it off. Can't we do something about it? We're studying it now!  
  
It was agonizing, like having his mind dragged through someone's private nightmare. And the more it went on, the more fragmented it became.  
  
I've got it under control. We've got it under control. Never let this happen again, I want him to learn what happens when he. three fence- posts, our scarecrow, and a mailbox later. We're planning something about that. An extraction, best way to study it, and teach him a lesson. He won't try it again, that's for sure.  
  
Then there was a stabbing, blinding pain in his eye. It was on fire, every nerve ending screaming. He threw his hand up instinctually to cover it and the connection was broken.  
  
Clark found himself lying on the floor at the other end of the cell. He could feel his heart pounding away in his chest. His eye burned dully, but didn't feel like it was being boiled in acid anymore. Shakily, he pulled himself to his feet and looked across the cell. Joseph was getting to his feet as well, looking equally pale and nauseas. "What was that?" Clark asked, stunned.  
  
Joseph crouched down, shivering suddenly. He touched the metal patch on his face and shivered again. Clark stared at him and was surprised to see that he was crying slowly, the tears dripping one side of his face. "I felt it again," he whispered. He stared up at Clark. "When they took it. I felt it happen." he clasped his hand to his face, covering the patch and let out a dull scream. "Why? What happened?"  
  
"I don't know." Clark said. He watched Joseph and swallowed, touching the skin under his own eye briefly. "I felt it too. I heard them talking about it. but how?"  
  
Joseph looked up at him, frowning in confusion. He dashed away his tears with one arm and stared at him. "You heard them? But you weren't here."  
  
"No. but you were." Clark stared back at him. "And there was more. there were things I remembered. Did you hear anything?"  
  
Joseph frowned harder and looked away. "Something about a scarecrow." he said slowly. "You had a scarecrow?" he asked, confused.  
  
"On our farm," Clark said, distracted. Those had been his memories of when he had learned to control his heat vision, he realized. But it hadn't just been them alone, for some reason, he had seen Joseph's memories as well. But why, he had to wonder. They were his memories, why would Joseph be able to see them?  
  
But in another world, they might have been Joseph's memories after all, he thought suddenly. They were the same person after all, maybe not psychologically, but physically identical. Maybe that was all it took, physical contact to make a bridge between them. There was only one way to test it. Clark started to reach out towards him, but then Joseph moved slightly away, pulling his sleeve up his arm in the process.  
  
There were scars running up the side of his arm, some smaller, like little burns from a cigarette, to much larger ones that looked like charred rings around his arms. And everywhere, dotting his arm, were red, little scabs, the marks of countless needles.  
  
"I don't. Don't want to remember that." Joseph said slowly, pulling his sleeve down. Clark nodded after a moment and lowered his hand, feeling sick to his stomach. He moved away from Joseph quietly until he was sitting against the opposite wall.  
  
"I didn't mean for that." he started to apologize. "I didn't know that would happen."  
  
Joseph looked at him and shrugged. "I'm used to pain," he said in a dead sounding voice. Clark stared at him sadly. He couldn't stop himself from thinking, that could have been me sitting right there. It could still be me.  
  
How much had gone wrong to change this world so much, he wondered. How much, or how little. Whatever it was, it had made all the difference here; to him, to so many lives. They might never know.  
  
"Did you really have a scarecrow?" Joseph asked suddenly, breaking through his thoughts. Clark stared at him, surprised to see that he was smiling.  
  
"Yeah, on our farm. Why, what's so funny," he asked as Joseph's grin only got wider.  
  
"Like in 'The Wizard of Oz'?" Joseph asked, smiling.  
  
"Wait, how do you know, 'The Wizard of Oz'?"  
  
Joseph nodded towards a flat panel on the wall. "They let me watch movies sometimes if I'm quiet. 'The Wizard of Oz' is my favorite." He smiled even broader. "Do you really have a farm? Like Dorothy?"  
  
"Honest. You do know we're in Kansas right now too, right?" he couldn't help grinning in spite of everything. The look of wonder on Joseph's face made him laugh out loud briefly. The sound hung in the air, seemingly out of place in this tiny, hi-tech prison. For a moment, Joseph seemed almost frightened at the sound of it, but then he smiled shyly at Clark.  
  
"I never knew we were in Kansas," he admitted, though very quietly.  
  
"Well, it's not like any Kansas I ever knew," Clark said back to him, his smile fading a little. 


	31. Not Pulling Punches

Chapter 30  
  
Being Lana Lang had its benefits, Tina had to admit as she walked through the base.  
  
She tried to not seem nervous as she went, but the more she tried to seem inconspicuous, the more noticeable she seemed to become. She would come to a turn in a hallway and blank out momentarily on where to go, her usually flawless memory failing her; or she would find herself clenching and unclenching her fists again and again in spite of herself. Thankfully, no one seemed to keen on paying much attention to her, or being caught paying much attention, she realized. The LuthorCorp soldiers seemed to avoid her eyes as she passed them and more than a few of the technicians had given her a wide berth.  
  
Apparently Lana is even more antisocial than I am, she thought wildly, and then had to fight back a laugh. God, that would really get them to notice. Calm down, take it slow, like Lex said.  
  
Lex had laid out step by step exactly what she would need to do to immobilize the labs defenses; what sensors to disable, what doors to jam, and what codes to enter. He'd given her the schematics for the base and the patrol patterns of the soldiers to memorize. He'd even given her a face guaranteed to get her through the worst areas unsuspected. The only thing he hadn't done had been to give her the confidence to do it.  
  
Tina's stomach kept rolling up and down, which was odd when she thought about it because she wasn't sure she even had a stomach any more. Regardless of that, she felt like she was going to throw up every time a soldier shifted his weight near her or a door opened nearby. She kept imagining them calling out and alarms starting to blare. You're going to get caught, there's no way they won't know, her mother's voice cried in her head. Over and over as a child, her mother had drilled into her the danger she was in, how easily the LuthorCorps could find out about her and take her away, and so it wasn't very surprisingly that now, years later, her mother's voice came back to her so clearly. You're going to get caught, you're going to get caught and they'll cut you up; they'll take you away and you'll disappear just like I said they would. You'll be gone, just like how I walked out the door one day and never came back. You'll be gone, just like I.  
  
"Shut up, shut up, shut up," she mumbled to herself, then glanced around terrified to see if anyone had heard her. Mercifully, the hallway was deserted. She sagged against the wall briefly and wiped at her forehead. "I can't do this," she breathed out. "I can't."  
  
You can and you will, a different voice said in her mind. Tina had realized she wasn't exactly the poster child for sanity (when you could be anyone at whim, it was hard to hold onto your own identity), but for some reason, she was actually happy to hear this voice. It was warm and strong, and naggingly familiar for some reason.  
  
You have to do this, everyone is depending on you. Even more, it's the only way to shut her up finally. You want her gone, don't you?  
  
She nodded, forgetting where she was for a moment.  
  
Then what are you waiting for, it asked. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment and then started towards a door at the other end of the hallway. It was made from reinforced steel with a computer terminal set beside it. She punched in one of Lex's codes and then set her hand down on the flat screen, waiting nervously while the sensors scanned it. The locks on the door snapped open with a loud clank, making her jump slightly. Tina closed her eyes as the door swung inward automatically, steadying herself. When she was ready, she stepped inside.  
  
She almost wished she'd kept her eyes closed. Inside was row upon row of weapons, handguns, shotguns, and rifles, tasers and electric batons, gas grenades, mortars, C4, and other explosives. There was a rack of assault rifles that was at least thirty feet long with three tiers, one stacked on top of the other. She stared at the weaponry, swallowing dryly. There was enough here to fight a small war, and this wasn't even the only armory, there were three more Lex had told her. And these weren't the only weapons in them.  
  
The back wall of the room was almost completely taken up by a giant machine and set into this machine was a row of rifles. They were in holsters set almost horizontally, so that the handles hung out invitingly. The guns looked sleek and very high tech. There was a little electronic display by each of them that all glowed green. Hesitantly, Tina let her hand touch one of the rifles and then she pulled it out slowly. It was heavy and surprisingly warm, almost hot to the touch. A light had flashed on by the handle when she'd pulled it out. It winked back at her a bright green, evidently ready for use.  
  
These were the meteor rock powered guns that Clark and Lex had told her about, she realized. Apparently the LuthorCorp scientists had managed to harness the radiation from the meteor rocks into a weapon. It was the sort of thing they would do, she thought disgustedly. A part of her wondered idly what would happen if she were hit by one of them. The radiation had changed her before, what would a second dose do? The more she thought about it though, the more she realized it was a bad idea. She'd been shot not that long ago, she wasn't ready to repeat the experience.  
  
Setting the rifle back into the slot, she turned around, scanning the other wall for a panel. She found it quickly enough, but then froze, staring at it. There was a lock set into it, something Lex hadn't mentioned to her. "What now?" she muttered, staring at it worriedly. She wracked her brain nervously trying to think if she'd forgotten something, but her mind refused to cooperate. All she could was look around wildly, trying to think of what to do.  
  
Stop panicking, that voice shouted in her mind again. Just calm down and think for a second! The more she heard that voice the more familiar it sounded. Then with a shock she realized she was hearing her own voice, but it was different somehow, stronger and more confident.  
  
Of course it's your voice. Now stop babbling and listen to me for a second, the voice went on. Look at it, what's the matter?  
  
"It's locked, that's what's the matter," she snapped back, realizing she was in the middle of the LuthorCorp base having an argument with herself.  
  
You stupid bitch! Her head snapped forward like someone had slapped the back of her head. Stronger and more confident, as well as being a tad bit impatient, she thought darkly. It's a tiny lock! Who the hell are you anyways!  
  
"Oh, right," Tina said, rubbing the back of her head and feeling incredibly stupid. She punched the lock in with one hand and ripped the rest of the panel off the wall. "I wonder if Lex knows a good shrink?" she muttered to herself as she reached into the wall, craning her hand up and feeling for a control box Lex had described. When she found it, she grabbed the last two wires and ripped them out of it, bracing herself for every alarm in the base to go off as she did. But nothing happened. Exhaling loudly, she pulled her arm out and picked up the panel, shoving it back into place as best she could.  
  
"One down, three to go," she said.  
  
Tina was taking too long, Lex thought darkly. He checked the time on his computer for the fifth time in as many minutes and tapped at his desk anxiously. He was sitting in his office with the lights off, the only illumination from his computer screen. Status readouts from around the lab scrolled by quickly on it. Hamilton and his crew were still observing Clark and his brother in their cell, the majority of LuthorCorps soldiers were waiting in their barracks for a 'special debriefing', and most of the technicians or scientists were working in isolated parts of the building. The only thing not running on schedule was Tina. He had expected her to be done with disabling at least three of the armories by now. Instead, she was just finished on the first.  
  
At least she got around to sealing up the barracks first, he thought. His father kept a security force of close to five hundred on staff for the labs. By reorganizing the schedules for them, they'd managed to seal most of them in their own barracks, leaving almost a hundred left guarding key areas. He would have sealed them all in if he could have, but there was no way of pulling them away from certain places without causing suspicion. Areas like Lab 2.  
  
He hit a key and pulled up a quick schematic of the main labs. Lab 2 stood out prominently, the only blank spot on the plan. Not even Lex had access to what was inside it.  
  
Can you see what's happing? That we're coming for you? He frowned, thinking hard for a moment. His hand slipped up to rub his now-smooth scalp, still not used to the feeling. That was the part about the plan he hated the most, the one he hadn't emphasized much in case Clark might have caught on. Other than her story and name, Lex knew next to nothing about the woman in Lab 2. He didn't know how they were holding her there, what she looked like, even if she could be removed from there safely. What will Clark do if we show up to save her and we can't even take her out of the room, he asked himself darkly.  
  
A sudden beeping on his computer brought him back from his thoughts. "Damn it," he said, studying the message. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number quickly. "We're moving up the timetable by thirty minutes," he said in a rush, checking his watch hurriedly. "No other changes. Be ready." He hit 'end' and typed in another number. After a moment, he heard Tina, or Lana's, voice at the other end of the line. "We have a problem," he told her.  
  
"What is it?" her voice came back worriedly.  
  
"Some of the soldiers still on duty just tried to activate their comms. As their discovering now though, everything has been deactivated."  
  
"So, how is this bad?"  
  
"It's ahead of schedule. They won't be able to radio out, but they still have access to the rest of the base, and if they manage to find out what's happening before Pete and the others get here."  
  
"Okay, I get the picture. Can't you seal them off though?"  
  
"Not from here, the security doors can only be controlled in the control room. Which is where you're going to meet me in a few minutes."  
  
"I'm not done with the armories yet," she protested  
  
"It can't be helped. Seal up the closest one and meet me as soon as possible."  
  
"Should I run?"  
  
"Only when you hear the sirens," he replied grimly. "I'm letting them out." Then he clicked the phone off, set it down, and started to work. "And trust me, you're going to hear them," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Joseph said quietly. He was sitting on his blanket, watching Clark. "They don't like it when I move around so much. It gets them nervous."  
  
"I can't help it." Clark paced around the cell, staring at the walls and the ceiling, straining his eyes to find some flaw or weak spot. It was hopeless, the walls were pristine and almost seamless except for the door set into the wall at the far end. Even that was crafted almost perfectly, set so neatly into the wall that you might not even know it was there. There was another smaller, almost invisible, slot in the door that he assumed they put food through.  
  
Lex had said, together, he and his brother would be able to force their way out of the cell, but Clark couldn't see how it was going to be possible now. Every time he came so much as five feet from the door, a light flashed on the manacles and Clark was literally dropped to the floor. It was as if the manacles were suddenly crushingly heavy; it was all he could to drag himself away from the door.  
  
"Not very fun, is it?" Joseph had laughed slightly as he watched Clark struggling on the floor the first time. "I told you they don't like me going near the door. It turns off if you back away. Sometimes they leave it on when they feed me though."  
  
Aside from pacing the cell, there wasn't much else to do. He couldn't sit there like Joseph, utterly calm and quiet. It was a little unnerving actually, he thought. He just sat there, staring at him, studying every inch of him. Clark guessed it was natural, he was probably the only other person he'd ever seen this closely. He was hard put himself to keep from staring back at him.  
  
"So what do you remember?" Clark asked him, trying to take his mind off the waiting. He saw the surprised look on Joseph's face and he elaborated. "Before this, I mean. Anything?"  
  
He was silent for a moment and then he said slowly, "Sometimes, if I think back hard, I can remember a large noise and bright lights all around me. And I'm afraid, that's all," he said gruffly. 'Course, I could be just remembering this place," he added bitterly. "I've never been anywhere else in my life."  
  
"Maybe that'll change," Clark said quietly, pitying him.  
  
"Maybe," he said bitterly. "Do you remember our parents?"  
  
"Not much I'm afraid. I didn't get to know them either. Not our birth parent's at least. Some people here took me in, they raised me as their own."  
  
"Humans?" He sounded incredulous.  
  
"What? What is it?"  
  
"Nothing. What was it like?"  
  
"Hard; fitting in with these powers wasn't, isn't, exactly easy." He had to smile. "I can't really get to close to anyone, no matter how much I'd like to, not unless I can trust them who I am. I've not found too many people who could take it." He sighed. "Then there's everything else to worry about." He counted them out on his fingers. "Worrying about my secret, not using my powers, not being able to really talk to anyone, yeah, then add to that all the other stuff life hands you and you've got a pretty good idea of what my life is like."  
  
He looked over at his brother. "That's been the hardest part; not having anyone else who would understand. Anyone who could understand."  
  
"I don't understand," Joseph muttered back. The bitterness in his voice was enough to make Clark falter.  
  
"What do you." he started to ask, confused, but Joseph cut him off with an angry wave of his hand.  
  
"Stop talking, just stop," he barked. "Shut up." He stared at Clark fiercely.  
  
Clark gaped back, his mind racing desperately to figure out why he was so upset and then he stumbled over the truth. He'd been sitting here talking to him about all the problems in his life, but he supposed when you looked at it from Joseph's perspective, Clark's life must have been pretty easy. He'd never even known a family or life outside this cell. How could I have been so stupid, he thought.  
  
"Joseph, God, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking-"  
  
"I told you to shut up," he snapped back, looking up. "I'm trying to listen." He stared up, perfectly still, not even breathing. "I can't hear the motors anymore. The power's off. And there are alarms. over there," he gestured towards the door.  
  
Clark sprang up, trying to listen. "I can't hear anything," he admitted.  
  
"Guess we're not that much alike after all," Joseph laughed, making Clark jump. Did he know, he wondered  
  
"What else can you hear?"  
  
He smiled grimly. "They're frightened," he pointed into past the door. He took a few steps to it and stopped a few feet in front of it. Looking anxious, he hesitated and then thrust his hand towards the door. Nothing happened. Experimentally, he waved his hand around in front of the door and then he smiled back at Clark. "It is off." He touched the door and his smile faded just as quickly. "The door's still got power though. Damn it!" he screamed and hit the door roughly with his fist.  
  
Clark slammed into the door right beside him, making Joseph fall back in surprise. He stumbled backwards and sat down in a heap. "I said you might not be in here forever," Clark said to him.  
  
"You planned this?" Joseph gaped as he caught on.  
  
"I had help," Clark grunted. He struggled at the door, pushing with all his might. It still didn't seem to be budging an inch. "C'mon," he said between breaths. "I can't do this by-"  
  
Before he could finish, Joseph hit the door right next to him, straining into it. Clark blinked and then started pushing again, struggling to force it open. He could feel his feet start to sink into the floor as the pressure on them grew and grew. And still the door held. He could hear Joseph's breath was wheezing out in gasps, but he wasn't faltering either. His face was red and sweating, but his brother was smiling, in spite of it all. Clark smiled back at him, his back straining to the point of breaking. This door might be the best that LuthorCorp could come up with, but it wasn't going to beat them, he swore to himself. It wasn't.  
  
It didn't.  
  
The door tore backwards in pieces, coming apart as the metal shattered. As it did, Clark could hear the alarms going off around them and the screams of people. He shoved a piece of the door aside and glanced around, trying to catch his breath. Joseph was kicking at the pieces of the door still in his way, throwing them aside. They were in the observation lab now, he remembered from Lex's maps. This was where most of the experiments on his brother had taken place. There were rows of computers and work stations set around the lab, with a large white operating table standing back in the corner. He remembered there was another larger, observation lab above them, but it was usually unoccupied. This one was most certainly not.  
  
Three guards were rushing towards them as scientists were trying to scramble away. More guards were coming from the back of the lab, pushing technicians out of their way as they brought up their guns. One of the guards swung a taser rods at Clark, but he dodged it and shoved him back, sending them man flying back the length of the lab. Then he grabbed another man and sent him flying into the rows of computer, sending sparks arcing into the air. Joseph kicked the last man aside, crying out viciously as he did. Clark glanced up for more threats as he heard the doors at the end of the lab open, but all he could see were scientists rushing out them, no one coming in. Lex had apparently done all he'd promised. In seconds, the only people left in the room were he and Joseph, the last of the guards, and a few injured or just shell shocked scientists. His eyes fell on one of the scientists still standing. With a start, he realized that he recognized him.  
  
Before he could move though, the wall to the side of him exploded and Clark was thrown aside, dazed. The rest of the guards were firing wildly and flinging explosives careless of who they might injure. Clark climbed to his feet, but before he could rush at them, Joseph hit them hard. He smashed into them like a linebacker and scattered them. He was screaming loudly, taking out years of confinement and frustration out on them. Clark smiled and found the man he'd noticed before. He saw Clark look at him and he turned around to run.  
  
Clark sped over to him and pulled on the back of his coat, yanking him off his feet. "Dr. Hamilton," he breathed out, seeing the man's terrified face looking up at him from the ground. He started to babble at him, almost incoherent. Clark shook him roughly and then threw him along the length of the floor. He hit the wall in a heap and tried to scramble to his feet, but Clark was there in a moment, holding him off the ground with one hand and shoving him against the wall. "Ready to talk yet?"  
  
"Oh, God, oh God!" he started to yell.  
  
"Where's Martha Kent?" Clark shouted at him. He shook him again and slammed him back. "Where is she?"  
  
"Lab 2, she's in lab 2!"  
  
"And where is that?"  
  
Hamilton whimpered and Clark pulled back his fist, his concern overriding his better judgment. That was all it took though, Hamilton cringed and started to talk. "I can take you there, God don't do anything!"  
  
Clark glared at him, but dropped him, none too gently. "Joseph," he started to call back, "we're done here. Let's get-"  
  
There was a sound behind him that Clark would never forget for the rest of his life. It was wet and muffled and but still the unmistakable sound of bones breaking. He looked back and froze. Joseph had his hands around one of the guards necks and was squeezing it. The sound he'd heard was the man's neck breaking. But Joseph wasn't done with him yet. Bellowing, he twisted and smashed the man into the wall by the neck, hard enough to leave a bloody smear there as the man fell to the floor.  
  
Clark could only stare at him, his body turning to ice. Clark knew how to pull his punches, how to control his strength; it had literally been the first thing his parents had taught him. Joseph apparently didn't know, or didn't care. The soldiers he'd tackled lay around him in heaps, their bodies horribly twisted or mangled. They looked like they'd been caught in the gears of some machine and ground into pieces.  
  
Joseph stood there, rubbing his knuckles and swaying slightly. He started to look at Clark, but something distracted him. There was a young woman, one of the technicians, bent over a workstation, apparently injured in the rush to get out. She looked young, hardly any more than a girl. She was coming to slowly, starting to pull herself up, when suddenly, Joseph was there behind her. He grabbed her head and yanked her up and then slammed her down face first through the computer terminal. Clark started as he saw her body quiver once and then go still.  
  
Joseph looked up at him slowly, his breath wheezing out. His arm was still sunk into the sparking machinery almost up to his elbow. "Now. Now we're done here," he said harshly. 


	32. Lost Lives

Chapter 31  
  
Joseph's eyes fell on Dr. Hamilton and a dreadful look of anticipation came over his face. "You," he breathed out heavily. "Oh God, I've waited for this." Hamilton moaned and pressed back against the wall. Joseph pulled his arm out of the remains of the computer console and started towards him.  
  
Clark looked down at Hamilton dully and then back up at his brother. He felt like his brain was a skipping record; all he could do was remember that girl's face before Joseph killed her. Over and over, he saw him pull her head up, his fingers wrapped around her hair, the flash of terror in her eyes, and then the sickening crunch as he smashed her head into the terminal.  
  
He'd killed her right before his eyes, and he hadn't been able to stop it. He hadn't even tried. He killed her. Joseph was a few feet from him now, his attention fixed on Hamilton. He killed her, Clark thought. He could see the blood still on his brother's hands. He killed her. Joseph reached out towards Hamilton, his fingers curling around like claws.  
  
"NO!" Clark screamed, coming out of his trance. He rushed at Joseph and they touched briefly -  
  
You have to be careful, son. Football might be alright for other boys but. he killed those men with bare hands and look what he did that door we can't. I'll be careful. What's the harm in just having a little fun now and then  
  
- as he shoved him away roughly. They both lost their footing and went tumbling across the floor of the lab for a moment Clark fought his way to his feet, trying to clear his head of the pain and disorientation that came from touching Joseph. He looked up and saw his brother was on his feet just as soon as he was.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" he screamed at him. Joseph glared right back at him.  
  
"What are you talking about?" He seemed generally shocked and angry about the question.  
  
"You. You killed those people! You killed them!"  
  
Joseph blinked and looked back at the girl with her head in the computer. "So?" he asked roughly.  
  
Clark hit him without even thinking about it. There was a flash of pain and dizziness, and then Joseph was striking back at him. He was too used to fighting to be taken down by one blow, and he knew how to hit back. They rolled on the floor, punching and kicking each other, and as bits and pieces of each other's memories jumped back and forth between them.  
  
God knows what he'd do if we hadn't stopped him. As it is we lost seven. O'Rorke, Dollan - Clark shoved his head back into the ground and punched him across the mouth. He seemed to be stronger than his brother, maybe from being out in the sun more, but what Joseph lacked in strength, he more than made up for in viciousness and skill. He unexpectedly pulled Clark down and headbutted him. While he was stunned, Joseph latched onto his neck and rolled him over, pinning him to the ground. Clark tried to fight back, but his brother seemed to have him in a death grip. His eye was starting out of his head, almost like he wasn't even seeing him. Gallen, Sullivan, Baxter, Quan, and Hu. Pete's trying out why can't. Clark couldn't breathe, but what were more painful were the memories rushing through him. One of his eyes was boiling in its socket, he could feel the radiation from the meteor rocks washing over him again and again, and all over his body he could feel countless knives and needles piercing his skin, over and over again. Along with the other accident, that brings the total to 15. And he's still getting stronger -  
  
Suddenly, Joseph released him and Clark threw himself backwards. The memories and pain shut off as the link was broken. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, his chest heaving. For a moment, all he could was lay there. Every nerve in his body felt raw and sore. Groaning, he pushed himself to his knees and stared across at Joseph. His brother was on his side, almost curled up in a ball. One of his hands was pressed tightly against the metal patch on his face. The other eye stared back at him, bloodshot.  
  
"Why did you." he gasped out.  
  
"You can't kill people," Clark rasped, his throat still feeling like there was a fist around it.  
  
"Why not? Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"It's not right," he said weakly. "You just can't-"  
  
"Was this right?" his brother screamed at him, shaking the hand over the patch. "Was it? Is any of this right?" he waved his other hand around the demolished lab.  
  
"No, it's not," Clark admitted. "But you can't just kill people because of what they did. I won't let you."  
  
Joseph stared at him, his mouth quivering. "You know what it was like," he said quietly. "You could feel it in here," he tapped his head. "How can you still say that?"  
  
"I'll still stop you," he swore, not relenting. Joseph stared back at him just as resolute.  
  
"Look," Clark said, getting impatient. "You need my help to get out of here. I won't take you anywhere though if you keep doing this."  
  
"You came to get me out!" Joseph protested.  
  
"I didn't know what you were like," he shot back. Joseph's face darkened even more and he snarled at Clark.  
  
"Maybe I'd be better off on my own," he said.  
  
"I think we both know you wouldn't be." He climbed to his feet, trying to keep any sign of pain off his face. He didn't need to show him weakness, especially not now. "But I can't let you go either; I need your help."  
  
Joseph laughed, pushing himself up shakily. "Too much for you?" Clark was silent and just stared back at him. "So what is it? What do you need me for?"  
  
"Our mother is here too. That's what I need your help for."  
  
Joseph blinked and stared at him, at a lost. "You're lying."  
  
"Why else do you think I need your help? We could be gone already. I could be gone."  
  
He frowned and thought his over. Finally he looked up and asked, "How long has she."  
  
"Almost as long as you," Clark said, not wanting to go into too many details. There wasn't the time and he wasn't sure just how Joseph would take any of it. He wasn't sure of anything any more. If he's turned out like this, the thought rose up in his mind, what is Mom going to be like?  
  
"We don't have much time," he said, squashing the thought down. "Help me get her back and we'll all get out of here. If not, fine, I'll just have to do it on my own. You can see how far you can get by yourself."  
  
Joseph darkened. "Maybe I'll do alright," he growled.  
  
"Maybe you will. Maybe you'll even manage to get outside. But then of course, where do you go from there? You don't know anyone, you don't know where to go; you didn't even know you were in Kansas until today! What kind of chance do you think you'd have out there? You'd be back here in a day." Joseph snarled and looked away, fuming. Careful, Clark told himself. You're pushing him too hard. But there's no other way and I'm running out of time. I need him with me, no matter what.  
  
"I have friends; people who have helped set this up. They're waiting for us, all of us. They can help you; you'll never have to go in a cage again. I promise you." Joseph didn't say anything. "But you can't kill, I mean that."  
  
"What happens if we get attacked again?" he asked. "And we are; this wasn't the last of them," he waved at the guards behind him.  
  
"Then, I guess you're going to have to learn to hold back a little," Clark told him sternly, but inside, he was relieved. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He just hoped he wasn't going to regret this.  
  
He turned around to find Hamilton again, but he was gone, vanished. The lab door hung open at the back of the lab, the sound of sirens going off farther in the lab echoed through them. "He must have slipped out while we were fighting," he muttered.  
  
"You need him?" Joseph asked, nodding towards the door. He pulled off the manacles on his wrist, one after the other. Then he bent down and snapped the two off his ankles with relish. Clark nodded.  
  
"Alive, though. He's going to help us find where they're keeping her."  
  
"And if he doesn't want to? What then?" his brother asked, glancing back at Clark.  
  
"He doesn't have a choice," Clark told him, snapping off his manacles. He hurried off down the lab, with Joseph trailing behind him. He couldn't see the dangerous grin on his brother's face, but somehow, he knew it was there.  
  
Tina raced to the control room doors and punched in the access codes as fast as she could. "Cmon, cmon," she said impatiently. Finally the doors clicked open, just as a bullet ricocheted off the wall next to her. She flinched back, crying out and then pulled the door open. Bashing the keypad off the wall with one hand, she then ducked and threw herself inside the room. The door clicked shut behind her.  
  
"You took your time getting here," Lex said casually. She looked up, biting back a few choice words for him when she saw him. He was standing calmly with a gun pressed to the head of a technician, who was kneeling before him. A few other technicians and two guards were on the floor as well, all unconscious. Lex saw her looking around and shrugged. "Sorry, but I had to start without you."  
  
"I ran into a pair of guards I couldn't shake. They still thought I was Lana. I couldn't have them follow me here, so I tried to take care of them, but two more showed up before I could finish."  
  
"So you lead them right here, good idea," Lex said, turning back to the cowering technician.  
  
"I'm not bulletproof," she snapped at him. "So, uh, what are you doing?" she asked finally.  
  
"Allen, here, is not being cooperative. He has certain codes we need, but unfortunately, I can't get him to tell me what they are."  
  
"I thought we had everything we needed?" Tina asked worried.  
  
"Apparently my father changed the codes before he left. How very like him."  
  
"He changed them," Allen stammered, Lex's gun pressed against his forehead. "I don't know them, I swear!"  
  
"Nothing goes through the network without you knowing about it, Allen," Lex smiled at him. "You either saw him change them or you changed them for him. Which was it? Don't make me have to do something we'll both regret later."  
  
"Do you really need them now or later?" Tina asked impatiently. She could hear the soldiers' who'd followed her already pounding on the door behind her.  
  
"Now would be preferable."  
  
"Then fine, let me handle it." She shoved Lex aside and grabbed Allen, pinning him to the wall. Then she concentrated and formed the image in her mind. Immediately, her face contracted and flowed around until it was ready. It was a little hard to gauge his reaction, what with how much her eyes and ears were distorted, but she thought he was screaming. She held the form for a moment and then allowed her face to resume its usual shape. Allen was pale and quivering like a leaf, staring at her in absolute terror. "Do you know the codes?" she asked quickly.  
  
His mouth worked frantically, but nothing would come out. She frowned at him and let her skin ripple a little on her face. Immediately, he was nodding feverishly, and croaked out, "Yes!"  
  
Smiling, she handed him off to Lex, who was looking a little pale himself. "That was. particularly horrible," he said after a moment.  
  
"Blame Whitney," she said. "He's the one who made me watch all those Carpenter movies." She followed him as he guided the still-shaking Allen to the main control room.  
  
"We can control everything from in here," Lex told her. "This is pretty much the nerve center of this entire lab." It was a small room with a single, heavy door and thick security glass walls. Lex shoved Allen into a chair in front of a vast array of computers and nodded at him. "Enter the codes." Allen glanced past him to Tina for a second and then he turned around quickly and started to type rapidly. Lex smirked and sat down beside him, watching him closely.  
  
Tina stared around nervously. There were monitors hanging from the ceiling, showing images from around the lab. There were shots of the 'Corps still held captive in their barracks, of empty and abandoned hallways, and -  
  
"There's fighting going on outside!" she said suddenly. On one of the monitors there was a firefight in progress at one of the side entrances. It was too far off though to make out any details though.  
  
"That would be Pete and the rest," Lex supplied. "I had to push up the schedule, remember? They're having a little more trouble pinning down the guards outside than I anticipated, but it looks like they've got things in hand. He'll be inside the base soon."  
  
She nodded, looking at the other monitors. "What about Clark?" she asked nervously.  
  
"He's doing better, or worse, than I thought," Lex said. "He managed to free his brother, but he's taking him along."  
  
"I thought that was good?"  
  
"I honestly don't know. He seems to have some control over him, but who knows? He's an uncertain element in all of this. If he makes the wrong move, he could upset everything." His mouth tightened noticeably. "It wouldn't take a lot to bring this all down on top of our heads."  
  
A hand closed around Chloe's shoulder and she almost jumped out of her skin. "Sorry, sorry," Whitney apologized as she started up. "You must have nodded off for a little."  
  
"Yeah, well, awake now!" Chloe laughed, her heart in her throat. She heard Lana laugh in the cell behind him and she flipped her off over her shoulder. She'd been sitting all day watching Lana stare back at her in her makeshift cell. Despite Clark's protests, they hadn't untied her yet, and she was still under constant guard.  
  
"You could have said something," she snapped at the kid on guard duty with her. He had said his name was Jeremy, and that he was nineteen, but if he was a day over sixteen, Chloe would swear off guys. He laughed and leaned back against the wall.  
  
"I tried to, but you were snoring too loud."  
  
Whitney waved at him and pulled up a chair beside Chloe. As he sat down, she was a little surprised to see a gun shoved into his waist band. "I've got this watch. You can both take a rest." Jeremy started to leave, but Chloe stayed put.  
  
"I'm fine, already had one." Jeremy shrugged and headed down the hall, yawning. Pete had taken almost everyone he could with him to the labs, leaving only them and Sarah, who was puttering around somewhere.  
  
"Has she done anything?" Whitney asked her idly. Chloe shrugged.  
  
"Not much. Stared at the wall, stared at the floor, and then at me long enough to make me think we were going steady. Aside from that, not a hell of a lot else."  
  
"I guess that's good." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking off into space. Chloe watched him out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"So I can guess why I got left behind," she started. "Clark probably pulled one of you aside and asked for it, am I right?" He nodded slightly. "And it's pretty easy for Jeremy or Sarah. He's not old enough to shave yet and she's. well, a bitch. But I'm trying to figure out why they left you behind, and I'm drawing a blank."  
  
"I'm not much of a shot," he shrugged.  
  
She glanced at the gun and gave him a quizzical look. "So what's that for?"  
  
"Our guest, if necessary."  
  
Chloe looked into the cell, but Lana hadn't apparently heard him, or was pretending she hadn't. "You can't be that bad."  
  
"I suppose not." He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. "Maybe they think I'm distracted," he said finally.  
  
"Well, that's not exactly the word I'd use," Chloe smiled a little, "but it's not too far off."  
  
He laughed a little. "Yours would probably fit better." Then he was silent for a while. She rolled her eyes and stretched her arms out, starting to work out the kinks from sleeping in the chair. "I know I screwed up," he said quietly.  
  
"Again, not exactly the word I'd choose," Chloe said pointedly, "but pretty close."  
  
"I know what I did," he breathed out, looking down.  
  
"Oh, so that makes it okay, huh? 'You know what you did'. Do you know how crappy all of it was too?" she tore into him. "Something happens with her and you just stop talking, avoid her entirely. She was shot trying to help you and you can't even say thank you? God!" she spun around in her chair and faced the other way, fuming. "I can't even talk to you."  
  
"It wasn't just something."  
  
"Okay, maybe she held some things back but."  
  
"'Some things,', yeah, you could say that."  
  
"Okay, maybe some major things," she snapped at him, feeling this close to hitting him, "but you have to admit, she had a reason."  
  
"I know that, but I've known her for four years, she could have." he stopped suddenly.  
  
"Well seeing how you reacted I can't say I blame her," she yelled at him. He went pale and seemed to shudder for a second. Chloe looked at him sharply and then asked in a much softer tone, "What did you think when you saw her?"  
  
"I. I don't want to talk about this," he said quickly and started to get up.  
  
"When are you going to talk about it?"  
  
"Not right now and not with you, Sullivan!"  
  
"Why not? Of all of us, I'm the only one who could get where you're coming from." She laughed at the confused look on his face. "Hello, I'm the girl in love with an alien. At least yours is human."  
  
"You're in love with him?" he asked.  
  
"Well, yeah, I think at least," she said. "I don't know, it's confusing. I mean, I've liked guys before, but. well, Clark. He's not like anyone else I've ever met."  
  
"When I first found out about him, I don't know, I was a little creeped out. He creeped me out to begin with, so that didn't help. But you know, he stuck with me no matter what I said to him. No one had ever done that before. And then he saved my life, you know, he's got all these powers, and let's face it, he's not that hard on the eyes either, so maybe I tried a pass at him, and he. well."  
  
"He turned you down," Whitney finished. "He told me."  
  
"Well, geez, tell everybody, Clark," she muttered under her breath. "Yeah, he turned me down," she went on quickly.  
  
"Never happened before?"  
  
"Shut up, I'm trying to talk to you here. Anyway, I figured that was going to be it, but it wasn't. He was still there. That hadn't happened before either. I don't have a lot of people who stick around in my life," she admitted quietly.  
  
Whitney was looking at her sadly. "Does he know?"  
  
"I don't know if it matters. If we win this, he goes home, right? And he's already got a Chloe in his world, what am I going to do?" She shrugged helplessly and played with a hole in her jeans.  
  
"You want to know what I felt when I saw her in the van, when she changed?" Whitney asked her sadly. She looked up and saw him struggling with it. "I was disgusted," he finally choked out. "I hate myself for it, but that's what I felt. Maybe it was just a natural reaction or a gut instinct, but it was there." He shook his head and breathed out, his chest shaking a little. "How am I supposed to face her with that in me?"  
  
Chloe hesitated, not knowing what to say. "Do you still feel that way?"  
  
"I don't know," he said, conflicted. "I don't want to." He sighed and leaned back. "I love Tina, I do, but when I look at her, sometimes all I can see is her lying there in the van. How am I supposed to deal with that?"  
  
"I can't decide if this is entertaining or just part of the torture," Lana said with loathing from her cell. Chloe snarled and got up, looking through the bars. Lana stared back at her, her face a little flushed and sweating.  
  
"Well, looks like someone's coming down from her meds," she said mockingly, pressing her face against the bars. "I've never gone through withdrawal myself, but I've known people who have. Hope you're having half as much fun."  
  
"Both of you are pathetic," Lana rasped at her.  
  
"Yeah well, at least we wouldn't work for a fucker like your boss."  
  
"You shut up about him," she snapped, rocking in her chair. Then suddenly, she turned her head and retched. Chloe watched her and smiled.  
  
"Yeah, great guy your boss," Whitney said. "Look at what he does for you."  
  
Lana glared at him and spit, clearing her mouth. "He takes care of me."  
  
"You know what makes me sick," Chloe said quietly, "is thinking about you and Clark." If Lana was mad before, she practically livid at that. "Oh yeah, can't you tell?" Chloe asked, needling her. "I mean, the way he looks at you, you had to have noticed. You and he, well, your other self and he, they apparently have a bit of a history together."  
  
"Shut up!" she yelled, but Chloe went on.  
  
"You know, he wants to save you from all this. He knows what you've done, and still, doesn't change a thing," she remarked, a little peevishly. "You're still worth saving to him."  
  
"He's an idiot."  
  
"Yeah, maybe he is," she laughed. "But that's not going to stop him."  
  
"You're all idiots," she snapped. "He's a monster. He's just like the other one."  
  
"What do you know," Chloe dismissed her. She sat back down and put her feet on the wall. It was quiet for a moment and then Lana's voice came drifting through the bars.  
  
"It was a closed casket, wasn't it?"  
  
Chloe blinked, suddenly feeling like she'd been frozen on the inside. Whitney stared at her and then looked through the bars, frowning. "What are you talking about?" he asked.  
  
"The funeral," her voice came mockingly back. "Your father's, Chloe. It was closed casket, it had to have been."  
  
It seemed to take Chloe no time at all to get to her feet and press her face into the bars. "Don't you dare say another word about him!" she yelled.  
  
Lana smiled back at her, her face red and sweating. Her eyes were a little unfocused, but her voice came through loud and clear. "You wanted to know what I know. Well, here it is. Gabriel Sullivan, employed on March 13th, 1974. Transferred to the main research branch of LuthorCorp Enterprises on February 21st, 1983. Appointed Team 3 Supervisor five months later. Bright man, Metropolis University educated, hard working, loyal to the company. He would've gone far."  
  
"Shut up," Chloe said again, her heart pounding.  
  
"January 14th, 2001," Lana said quietly, no longer smiling. "He and six others die when their project escapes. We catch it, we put it back, and we invent a story: explosion in a lab, burned to death when a steam pipe ruptures over him. Tragic"  
  
"You're lying!"  
  
"I saw his body; steam can't burn a person like that. But we both know what can."  
  
"I said shut up!" she screamed. Whitney tried to pull her away, but she tugged herself out of his grasp. "Shut up!"  
  
"You should be on my side, you should all be," Lana swore at her. "Instead of trying to rescue the thing that killed your father!"  
  
Chloe screamed at her, completely beside her self. She yanked on the door to the cell and pulled it open. Whitney yelled and tried to stop her again, but she was beyond caring. She couldn't think, she couldn't breath, all that was there was a red flame of hate where her heart should have been. She clawed at him and forced him back, and then ran inside the cell. Lana was smiling at her, enraging her further. She threw herself at the girl in a tackle.  
  
Lana didn't try and resist, indeed, tied to the chair, there was no way she could have. What she did do, was help it along though. As Chloe hit her, she pushed herself backwards with her feet, propelling them both through the air. They came down in a heap, the impact smashing the old metal folding chair. It came apart in pieces as Lana rolled away, no longer tied to it. She was already fast at work, pulling at the knots on wrists with her teeth, trying to untie them. Chloe lay stunned, the wind knocked out of her.  
  
"Chloe!" Whitney yelled, yanking the gun out of his waistband. Lana was quicker though. She flung a jagged leg of the chair at his head and he grunted as it hit him, knocking him off balance. Lana was on top of him before he knew what happened. Whitney easily outweighed her and she was still partially bound, but he never stood a chance.  
  
Lana climbed to her feet with his gun in her hands, giving him a final kick in the ribs as she did. Whitney groaned and rolled over, holding his stomach. Blood from the cut on his forehead was already running down his face in streams. Chloe started to pick herself up, but Lana turned the gun on her and she froze.  
  
"No, get up," she snapped at her. Her face was now dangerously flushed and shiny, but the gun in her hands was steady enough. Chloe obeyed quietly, unable to take her eyes off it.  
  
"You're coming with me," Lana said to her in a wavering voice. "I want to show you what you're trying to save. You need to see. All of you do. I'll make you see."  
  
"Hey, are you all right in there?" Jeremy's voice was shockingly loud. Chloe gasped and stared outside the cell, hearing him coming down the hallway. Then she looked back at Lana and saw her turned around as well, waiting.  
  
"Don't," she whispered to her, but Lana didn't seem to hear. All of her attention was focused outside the cell.  
  
"Hey, I said are you guys okay? Where are-" Jeremy stepped into view and froze as he saw Lana standing there with the gun trained on him, an expression of stupid shock on his face.  
  
Chloe saw her raise the gun a little, aiming it at him. He was still standing there, frozen in place. "Run!" the cry came ripping out of her. Lana's head jerked back towards her for a second in surprise and Jeremy came alive again. He yelled and dived out of sight around the corner. In a second she could hear him running for safety. She would have sighed in relief, but then Lana grabbed her and shoved her towards the door.  
  
"Thank you," she said as she pushed her through it. "Would've wasted a bullet. Can't have that yet." She followed after her, aiming her towards the garage.  
  
"Where are we going?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Where do you think?" she wheezed back. Lana really seemed to be in bad shape now; she was breathing heavily and she looked like she'd be sick all over again. She waved the gun at her and motioned her towards the exit. "Get going, I don't want-"  
  
There was a sound like a gunshot behind them and then a real one followed an instant after. Chloe turned back and saw Whitney framed in the doorway to the cell. A piece of the broken metal chair fell out of his hands and hit the cement floor, making the same loud noise she'd heard before. Another piece of the chair lay beside it. Whitney stared at her for a long moment and then looked down at the dark red stain already spreading on his shirt. Then he slumped to the floor and lay there in the doorway, not moving.  
  
Lana looked faintly surprised at what had happened, as if she wasn't exactly sure what she'd done. But it was her hand, and it was the gun in her hand, pointed back at him. Even unfocused and sick to her stomach, her instincts had taken over when she'd heard the noise.  
  
"No," Chloe whispered. She stared at him. "NO!" The gun snapped around towards her and for a moment, she didn't care, she would have honestly rushed into it.  
  
"Move," Lana told her simply.  
  
"You stupid bitch!" Chloe swore at her.  
  
"I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to. Move."  
  
There was something in Lana's voice that made her believe her. Chloe turned back, the tears starting to come, and she let Lana push her towards the door. She had sounded dead inside; like no matter what happened, it didn't mean anything to her. Somewhere deep inside herself, Chloe realized that she was more dangerous like this than she had ever been before. 


	33. Complications

Chapter 32  
  
The hallways in the lab twisted and turned in on each other so frequently, that after a few minutes of frantic searching, Clark was helplessly lost. He thought he had studied the plans Lex had given him enough to get by, but without Tina's gift for memory, he could be going in circles for all he knew. He and Joseph were running aimlessly now, searching for any sign of Dr. Hamilton. They'd wasted too much time in the lab arguing, Clark thought to himself. That and Hamilton was a lot faster than he'd planned on. All they had found so far were empty labs, dead-ends, and a few scattered groups of LuthorCorps soldiers. Thanks to Joseph though, they'd been able to get the drop on all of them so far. All of the walls in the lab seemed to have been built as to block his x-ray vision, but Joseph's superior sense of hearing more than made up for that. How he could do it was a mystery to Clark; not only was it an ability he hadn't manifested yet, which baffled him as to how Joseph could have, but with all the sirens going off, he could hardly hear himself think, let alone the heartbeat of a guard fifty feet away.  
  
Joseph pulled the door to another lab off its hinges and stared inside. "Dammit!" he pulled his head back. "Just another tech, not him." Clark glanced inside and saw the terrified man trying to hide himself in a locker. In rage, Joseph threw the door against the wall. "We're never going to find him!"  
  
"We'll find him!" Clark promised, trying to keep his brother under control.  
  
"We should be gone by now. If we stick around any longer-"  
  
"If we leave, we'll never be able to save her," Clark yelled over him. "Never."  
  
"Last time I escaped, I stayed for a while to... to settle some scores," Joseph said, avoiding Clark's eyes for a moment. "It gave them time to get ready for me. If we do that now..."  
  
"This isn't like last time," he told him, trying not to think about what he had meant by 'settling scores'. "You've got me now."  
  
Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but bit it back. Instead, he stomped off and stared down the hall. "What about your friends?" he asked finally with a trace of bitterness.  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"Well for starters, where are they?" his brother snapped back at him. "So far all I've seen is a fat load of-"he stopped suddenly and turned around. He stared off down the hallway intently.  
  
"What?" Clark said, recognizing what that look meant. "You hear someone?"  
  
"Just a rat," Joseph grinned evilly. Clark blinked, more than a little puzzled, and then his brother was gone. He stared, now completely dumbfounded, and then he heard a scream of pain from down the hall.  
  
"Dammit," he yelled, running at top speed. I missed him taking off, he thought. I didn't know he could move that fast. He's might be even faster than I am.  
  
It wasn't that hard to find his brother, he just followed the screams. When he arrived he found Dr. Hamilton lying prone on the ground, holding his right knee and bellowing. The lower half of his leg was bent almost perpendicularly in the wrong direction. Joseph was standing over him, smiling slightly. "What the hell did you do?" Clark demanded, brushing past his brother to check on the doctor.  
  
"I must have hit him too hard when I stopped him," he said insincerely. "Whoops."  
  
"Geez," Clark muttered, trying to figure out what to do. He wasn't a doctor; he didn't know what to do with this sort of thing. He tried to touch his leg as gently as possible, but all that did was set him screaming again. "Sorry," he apologized lamely.  
  
"Don't kill me, please don't kill me!" Hamilton clutched at him.  
  
"We're not," Clark said, shuddering a little as the man touched him. He could only imagine what this man had done to his brother over the years, and so he couldn't help feel a little disgusted, but seeing him like this... Was it so wrong to feel sorry for him too, Clark asked himself.  
  
"He's not," Joseph corrected over Clark's shoulder. "But if it was up to me..."  
  
"We're not going to kill you," Clark repeated a little louder. Hamilton stared back at, gasping and trembling from the pain. "But we need something from you. I need you to take me to Martha Kent."  
  
Hamilton started to protest and shake his head, but Joseph leaned over him, smiling. "Oh, please. Please say no," he urged him. The doctor took one look at his face, went a little paler, and gave a very tiny nod.  
  
"Good," Clark said, relieved. His brother look disappointed. "We need his help," Clark told him as he pulled the doctor up, supporting him over his shoulder.  
  
"What about after?" Joseph stared at the doctor almost hungrily. "Do we still need him then?" Clark glared at him and pulled the doctor up higher, making him cry out a bit.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Hamilton moaned and pointed down the hallway in the way they'd come. "Lab 2," he croaked out. "We go down that hall."  
  
"And after that?" Joseph asked a little too quickly.  
  
Hamilton stared at him, frightened. "I'll tell you when we get there," he stammered.  
  
Clark set off with Joseph following after. He would have run if he could have, but there was no way he could move fast without injuring Dr. Hamilton any further. He was going in and out of consciousness from the pain as it was.  
  
"Come'on," he urged him to stay awake, "where now?"  
  
Hamilton muttered something intelligibly and Joseph growled darkly, "Give him to me, I'll get what we need."  
  
Clark shook his head and asked the doctor again, "Where now? Come'on, wake up!"  
  
"Down... down there," Hamilton came back finally. He pointed unsteadily down another hall. "There's a turn at the end. Go... right." He started off again, but Joseph suddenly spoke up.  
  
"Wait! A group, not far down that hallway," he nodded in the direction they'd just come from. He frowned, listening intently. "Five, no six. They don't sound like soldiers."  
  
"Are you sure?" Clark asked, hefting Hamilton's body nervously. He'd passed out again and was lolling against Clark's shoulder.  
  
"They're not saying who they are," his brother remarked sarcastically. He flexed his fingers and glanced back at Clark. "You can't fight with him hanging off you," he pointed out.  
  
"I can't leave him here, someone might find him. Maybe it would be better if we run."  
  
"You don't have to go. There's only six of them, I could..."  
  
"No!" Clark said a little more vehemently than he'd wanted to. He saw his brother's face darken, but there was no way he was taking any chances with him yet. "We'll run," he decided. "They can't be following us, we'll lose them."  
  
Joseph grunted and turned around. "Too late for that. They'll be around the corner in a few seconds."  
  
"Joeseph!" Clark hissed at him, but his brother didn't move. He stayed where he was, waiting for the group to come around the corner and show themselves. Clark turned back, and looked down the hallway. It was straight line for two hundred yards, no where to hide if they were LuthorCorps. If he was alone, it would have been nothing, but there was no way he could clear the distance carrying Hamilton with him. He put the doctor down on the ground as gently as he could and stood with his brother. Joseph glanced at him and gave him a tight, almost anxious, grin. He didn't return it.  
  
Now even Clark could hear the people running down the hallway. He ducked down, ready to spring at them in an instant if need be. He saw their shadows race along the wall and then they turned the corner, running at top speed.  
  
Clark almost started running even as he saw who it was. Joseph did start, but Clark shot a hand out and grabbed his wrist –  
  
Do you like that you freak! It's what you get for killing my parents... Clark, if you just told me whatever you've kept inside-  
  
and they both went sprawling. Hs head was swimming from the force of the memories. Pete and the others, just having turned around the corner gave a start and started running to them. Clark tried to climb to his feet, but suddenly his left leg gave out and he fell back to his knees. My knee, he thought suddenly. That's where Lana kept shocking me that time. Wait, he thought. When did that happen?  
  
"Who was that..." he heard Joseph mutter. He pulled himself up and stared at Clark, looking sick, but from what, he couldn't tell. "That girl... what?"  
  
It's getting worse, Clark realized. We're sharing too much every time we touch each other.  
  
"Holy-!" Pete exclaimed as ran up to them, a group of his men following after. Joseph tried to stand up quickly, murder in his eye, but he lost his balance and fell back. Pete's men reacted instinctually and raised their guns as Joseph tried to stand again.  
  
"It's okay," Clark said quickly, literally throwing himself in between them. He swayed dangerously on his feet, but he kept standing, staring his brother down. "These are my friends. They're the ones who are helping me."  
  
Slowly, his brother came back to himself. He stared at Clark and then past him at Pete. "Your friends?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded. Clark turned around, taking in Pete. He looked tired, but able. There was rough bandage around one of his arms and he was holding his shotgun in one hand. "You don't know how good you look right now," he said, smiling.  
  
"You don't want to know what you look like," Pete gave him a friendly glance.  
  
"Blame LuthorCorp," Clark shrugged. Pete smiled tightly and looked past him at Joseph. He saw Pete staring and shifted uncomfortably, turning his face so that his ruined eye was hidden. "Wow, well," Pete said, getting a good look at him. "Not exactly identical, huh?" he remarked.  
  
"No one said we were," Joseph said.  
  
"Well, I guess introductions are in order," Clark said nervously. "Pete, this is Joseph, my brother. Joseph, Pete Ross." Joseph grunted, disinterested, but Pete was more direct.  
  
"Is any of that yours?" he asked, pointing at Joseph's shirt. The off- white hospital shirt and pants that he'd been wearing were now a dark, smudged gray, where they weren't torn or stained with blood. It was the sleeves that were the worst; they were ripped and almost red, especially at the ends of the sleeve. It was the blood stains that Pete was pointing at.  
  
Joseph glanced down at his shirt and shrugged. "No, not mine." Pete kept staring at his shirt, his brows knotted, like he was thinking very carefully. Joseph saw him staring and rolled his eyes. He casually tore off the sleeves and wiped his hands on them before throwing them away, looking at Pete expectantly. "Satisfied?" he asked. Clark couldn't help but notice that his hands were now cleaner, but had been left a bright pink.  
  
"It'll have to do," Pete said finally. He glanced at Clark, but he refused to look back at him. Pete nodded to himself again and muttered, "I was afraid of this."  
  
"Yeah, me too," Clark said, under his breath. Then he heard Joseph grunt in derision and remembered how well he could hear. A little chagrined, Clark focused back on Pete. "So how are we? Where's Lex?"  
  
"Should be in the main control center now, but we've got bigger problems," Pete said grimly. "Someone's attacking the south entrance and we're not going to be able to hold them back."  
  
"What? Who are they?"  
  
"Lex? Lex Luthor?" Joseph yelled at the same instant.  
  
"Yes," Clark told him distracted, trying to turn back to Pete.  
  
"You never told me he was in on this," his brother spat at him. "He's one of them. What are you doing trusting him?"  
  
"He's not!" Clark swore, but his brother shook his head defiantly.  
  
"He's that monster's son! He's just like his father!"  
  
"Lex is the one who got me in here! How do you think I got put in your cell? How do you think the cuffs were turned off? It was him, he arranged all this!"  
  
"Can we do this later?" Pete yelled, cutting both of them off. "Look, right now, we don't have time to argue. A group of soldiers just hit the outer base hard. I don't who they are or where they came from, but they're making mincemeat of us out there. We can't hold them off," he stated firmly.  
  
"I told you this would happen!" Joseph shouted. He spun and kicked his foot into the wall, smashing through it. "I knew it!"  
  
"We're not dead yet!" Pete yelled at him. "You want to roll over and wait for them to put you back in that cell, fine by me, but the rest of us are going to try and live a little longer."  
  
"He's right," Clark shouted. "We have to keep going." He turned to Pete. "Can we get to the control center from here?"  
  
"Should be able to," he said, pulling out a small, folded map of the lab. He traced out a path on it. "Here we are and there it is; should be a clear run. What about your mom, found her yet?"  
  
"Yeah, we were going there..." Clark glanced down at Hamilton. He was conscious again, but he didn't seem very aware of what was going on.  
  
"What happened to him?" Pete asked, noticing him for the first time. "Get his leg stuck in a machine or something?"  
  
"Something like that," Clark muttered.  
  
Pete caught the tone in his voice and glanced back at Joseph. "Right..." He glanced down the hallway and put away the map. "Shit," he muttered, thinking to himself. Then he waved Clark over to him and whispered, "There's no way you're going to trust him with your mother, are you?" Clark shook his head tightly. He couldn't see if Joseph was watching them, but he hoped he wasn't.  
  
"I don't blame you. Alright, here's what we're going to do," Pete said finally. "I'll take your brother and we'll try and hold these new guys off as long as we can. You go for your mom, get her out of here."  
  
"That's not the plan," Clark protested.  
  
"The plan was scrapped the second these guys showed up. Lex didn't count on them. My guys were supposed to hold the outside so we could get out of here, but if they take over the perimeter we're not going anywhere."  
  
"But let me go with you! I can help!"  
  
"I know you could, but there isn't time."  
  
"I'm not gonna run off and leave you here!"  
  
"Too bad, 'cause that's what I'm telling you to do!" he yelled. Then he hesitated, seeing the hurt look on Clark's face, and he went on. "Clark, find her and get out of here," Pete told him sadly. He got up and shifted his gun around so it was over his shoulder. "You did your job, you got us in, you got Lana out, same with your brother; now go find your mom. Neither of you belong here."  
  
Clark stared at him, dumbfounded, and then he ducked his head. "I'll find her, but I'm coming back as soon as she's safe," he swore. Pete smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Damn, they raise'em thick headed in Smallville, don't they? At least that hasn't changed." He put his hand out and Clark took it gladly. "Go find her." Clark smiled and nodded. Then he scooped up Hamilton and supporting him once more, started off down the hall.  
  
Pete watched him go, only turning back when he'd rounded the corner out of sight. "Alright... well," he said slowly, looking at Joseph. "You know what to do?"  
  
"What makes you think I'm going to do it?" he said coolly. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms.  
  
"You owe us," Pete started.  
  
"I owe Clark, I don't owe you anything," he corrected scornfully. "It might even be fun to watch you all slaughter each other."  
  
"You're not terribly bright, are you?" Pete said bluntly. Joseph's face flushed a deep red and he pushed himself off the wall, starting towards him. The others raised their guns frantically, but Pete didn't react, seemingly unafraid. "When they're done with us, who do you think they're going to focus on?" he asked.  
  
Joseph paused, thinking for a moment. "I can outrun them," he said.  
  
"Maybe you can, but I gotta warn you, they looked like they meant business. They're doing everything they can to get in here, so I have to say they probably know all about you. I mean, I wouldn't storm a building without knowing what was inside." As he finished, he pulled a gun out from behind his back. It was a sleek, futuristic model with the name, 'LuthorCorps' printed on the side. Joseph stiffened as he recognized it.  
  
"Lex had me make a detour on the way here," Pete explained, pointing it at him. "Turns out Tina didn't get every armory door sealed up before all this went down. She got two, I blew the hell out of the one I went to, but that still leaves one left; standing wide open and waiting for anyone to run inside and make like 'Star Wars'. What do you think about that?"  
  
Joseph was staring at the gun in his hand like it was a snake. "What are you going to do? Force me to help you?" he literally snarled at them.  
  
"Thought crossed my mind," Pete admitted. Then before Joseph could react, Pete reversed the gun, slapped it down in his hand, and stepped back. "But I'd rather give you a choice."  
  
All Joseph could do was stare at him and then down at the gun in his hand. He held it gingerly, his fingers almost trembling. "Why are you..."  
  
"I'm taking a chance on you," Pete told him. "Not because I trust you, or know you, but because I know Clark. And because it's probably the first choice anyone's ever given you." He nodded down the hall Clark had run down. "Last I knew, they hadn't surrounded us yet. You keep going that way and you should be able to find your own way out. Meanwhile, we'll be going. If you want to come along or not, it's up to you." He motioned to his men and they started down the hall. Joseph stood there for a moment, holding the gun in his hand, and then he called out.  
  
"Wait!" he said. He turned and hurled the gun with all his strength at the wall. It exploded in a tiny blast of green light and shards of metal. Then he ran up to them slowly, eyeing Pete carefully. "I'm not joining sides yet," he said quietly.  
  
"Give it time," Pete smiled at him.  
  
Lana had shoved Chloe into the passenger seat of the first car she could find in the base and had driven off without saying a word. It was a beat- up old van with a Farmer's Market emblem on the side. Chloe had remained slumped against the side of the door, trying to think. She'd watched Lana kill Whitney, she'd watched him die. The thought kept rising up in her mind to swamp everything else. She'd watched him die.  
  
The van lurched suddenly and she bumped her head against the side of the door. She cried out and Lana's hand whipped around in an instant, the gun aimed straight at her. Chloe's voice died out as she stared down the unsteady barrel. "I told you not to talk," Lana warned her, trying to straighten the van out and watch her at the same time.  
  
"I bumped my head," Chloe said quietly, not wanting to her upset her. She could see how the too-bright light in Lana's eyes, the sweat on her face, and how her hands were trembling; she was coming down hard off of all the medication. For a moment, Lana stared at her hard, and then she moved the gun back. She kept it gripped in her hand though, steering with it. Her fingers were gripping it so hard they were white.  
  
"Don't do it again," she warned her. She shivered violently suddenly and pounded on the dashboard with the gun. "Isn't there any heat yet?" She pressed the button in harder with the barrel of the gun.  
  
"What are you going to do with me?" Chloe asked.  
  
"How do you know him?" she asked, ignoring the question.  
  
"Who, Clark?"  
  
"Is that what you named him?"  
  
"That's his name," she told her. "No one gave it to him, aside from his parents."  
  
"Where are his parents?" she asked, her head whipping around quickly. Chloe shut her mouth and smiled spitefully. In an instant, the gun was back in her face. "Where are they?" Lana asked again slowly, staring at her, both of them forgetting about the road.  
  
"Didn't he tell you?" she asked.  
  
"You mean that story," Lana laughed. She moved the gun back and kept driving. "I'm not an idiot. The Oracle can do a lot, but she can't reach into another world."  
  
"How do you know? Anyone ever ask her?"  
  
Lana frowned, but didn't turn back. "We would have known," she insisted sullenly. "And even if it's all true, that doesn't change anything. He's still an alien."  
  
"So he still has to die?"  
  
"Yes," she hissed.  
  
"Even after he wanted to save you?"  
  
The car lurched a little as Lana fixed her with a warning look. "You don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Like I don't? He saved me from your goon squad back in town. They opened fire on a crowd, they would have killed me if it wasn't for him."  
  
"We fired because he was a threat!"  
  
"We... you were there?" Chloe asked. Lana didn't say anything, just stared forward. "Of course you were there. Why aren't I surprised?"  
  
"He was a threat," Lana insisted.  
  
"Yeah, well you ended up saving all of those people didn't you?"  
  
"Shut up!" she exploded. "Just shut up!" She waved the gun at her wildly, the car lurching dangerously. "He took everything away from me! He doesn't deserve to live!"  
  
Chloe watched her rave, the fear draining away from her slowly, being replaced by anger. "That's all you can say, isn't it? All you can think, I guess. They reprogrammed you good, didn't they?" Lana shoved the gun back in her face, but Chloe was through being scared. Maybe she was too mentally exhausted to care anymore, or maybe she'd just grown sick of Lana's ravings, but she wasn't frightened. "Do you actually believe in all that shit they fed you, or are you just too scared to see what's real for yourself?"  
  
"I know what's real. I've seen the bodies left behind by the alien. Your father's. I know what he's capable of."  
  
"Clark hasn't killed anyone," Chloe snapped at her.  
  
"Then the other one," Lana wasn't willing to give in.  
  
"What about you?"  
  
Lana flinched, but it could have been just another shiver. She shook it off and gave Chloe a shrug. "He got in my way, that's all. I didn't want to kill him."  
  
"Do you expect me to believe that?"  
  
"I could have killed you both in that cell right away," Lana pointed out. "I didn't. Your friend did something stupid that's all."  
  
"God, I hope you can sleep at night," Chloe said with as much venom as she could muster.  
  
"He doesn't have to be the only one tonight," Lana warned her. "Probably too late for that anyways. You don't know what you're letting loose here. Lex knows though, and he's still going through with it. What did he tell you?" she asked, turning to her. "Did he say the alien would greet you with open arms, maybe recite some poetry, say 'ET phone home' and all that shit? He's a killer, why can't you understand that? I've seen him break people in half with him bare hands and laugh about it."  
  
"Maybe cause you made him that way. I've heard what you've been doing to him!"  
  
"The scientists did that," Lana told her shortly.  
  
"Did you try and stop them?"  
  
"No," she said coldly. "I didn't."  
  
Chloe stared at her from across the cab. "If we'd done something to you, Clark would have stopped us."  
  
"Shut up," Lana hissed at her, not taking her eyes off the road.  
  
"You know," she told her slowly, "when everyone finds out what you did; Clark's going to be you're only hope. The rest of them will kill you. Pete; Lex; Tina," she breathed out, "When Tina finds out you better hope she only kills you. Who knows what else she could do."  
  
"You're not helping yourself," Lana warned her.  
  
"I'm just trying to give you a head's up," she said innocently. "Just wanted to warn you that if you do come out of this alive, which would be a miracle by the way, you're going to end up owing Clark your life."  
  
Lana didn't say anything. Chloe waited in vain and then looked out the window with a sigh. A sign rushed past them telling her they had one more mile before they reached the labs. She thought she could see smoke up ahead, but it was too dark to tell for certain. She wondered how things were going there, if everyone was still okay.  
  
"Why?" Lana asked her abruptly, bringing her back. She was glancing at Chloe in a quick and furtive way. "What does he want with me?"  
  
"I don't know," Chloe lied to her. Maybe he just sees something in you, she thought though, something from the girl, the 'you' he knew. Or maybe he's just seeing things.  
  
"None of it matters. Even if it's true, it doesn't change anything."  
  
"He is," Chloe said quietly, almost to herself. "He's changing things. I don't even think he knows he's doing it, but he is." She glanced at Lana was surprised to see that now; she was the one who looked afraid.  
  
"He can't change everything," Lana told her.  
  
Chloe looked out the window and saw the lab come up over the horizon. "No, he can't," she said.  
  
Part of the lab was indeed on fire, sending thick black clouds into the sky. The main gates were in ruin, the rows of wire fencing torn up by gunfire and explosions. The space between the gates and the main building was a battlefield. A row of jeeps and sleek black vans had encircled what was left of the main gates and soldiers in black gear were standing beside them for cover, firing into the building. Chloe could see scattered shots of resistance coming back from the lab windows, but it looked like the soldiers were gaining ground. As they got closer, she could see a squad of them storming the building. She could hear the gunfire intensify for a moment as they entered and then it died off quickly.  
  
"Who the hell are they?" Lana snarled. Chloe glanced at her, surprised. She'd figured of all people, Lana would have known.  
  
"I don't know," she said as Lana glared at her.  
  
A jeep had broken off from the main line and was heading towards them. Lana stopped the van abruptly, and stared at it, holding her gun nervously. Finally, she grabbed Chloe's wrist and pulled her out of the car. "Don't try anything," she warned her, pressing the gun against the back of her head. Chloe tried to say something, but Lana pulled her hair back until she winced. She nodded as well as she could, watching the jeep get closer to them.  
  
It screeched to a halt when it was twenty feet from them and five soldiers leapt out, bringing their guns to bear on them. They were wearing black fatigues with matching body armor. There didn't seem to be any kind of insignia or sign on any of them. It was the guns that they were pointing at them which caught Chloe's eyes though. Each of the soldiers was holding the sleek, hi-tech meteor powered guns that she'd seen the Luthor Corps use. Judging from the sudden way Lana's breath hissed out, she had noticed this as well.  
  
"Drop your weapon!" one of the soldiers commanded as Lana started yelling at him, telling him to drop his.  
  
"Who the hell are you? What's your name and rank?" she demanded. "What unit are you with?"  
  
"Drop your weapon!" the soldier shouted back.  
  
"My name is Lana Lang, commander of Luthor Corps, vice president of Security Measures and Responses for Luthorcorp," she snapped back at him. "That's my base you're blowing holes in and I demand to know what's going on!"  
  
"You don't drop the gun, you're not going to live long enough to find out anything, girlie," the soldier told her.  
  
"Do what he says," Chloe hissed at Lana. She tried to glance back at her, but Lana had too good a grip on her, she couldn't move her head. All she could do was stare up at the sky and listen to the hi-powered hum from the meteor guns.  
  
"Where's Mr. Luthor," Lana asked, not giving up. "I have to speak to him now! Where is he?"  
  
"I'm not going to warn you again," the man warned her. He aimed at her and waited, the seconds ticking away. Chloe could feel the muzzle of the gun still pressed into the back of her neck as she stood there. Then finally Lana snarled and tossed the gun away. Two soldiers immediately broke rank and ran up to secure them while the rest waited, their guns still trained on them. Chloe was yanked out of Lana's hands and handcuffed. Beside her, she could see Lana being restrained the same way. She wasn't taking it very well.  
  
"I'm a top executive of Luthorcorp," Lana was screaming at them. "If you're here to help, let me go! Who's in command?!"  
  
"I don't care who you are," he said in a matter of fact tone. "I don't have to. I've been ordered to restrain anyone attempting to enter the base, no matter what they look like."  
  
"Who ordered you!?" Lana screamed.  
  
"Tina, those doors aren't going to hold," Lex shouted over the intercom. "Get inside here now!" She was braced against the main doors to the control center. The only thing keeping the doors from being wrenched apart by the men outside was her raw strength. They were hammering hard on it, the door shaking frantically underneath all the blows. Lex was inside the inner room, watching her nervously. Behind him, huddled up in the corner was Allen. As soon as he had finished entering the codes, Lex had shoved him there and warned him not to move or say a word. Allen had only whimpered in response and Lex had turned his back on him; he had more important things to worry about.  
  
"I can give you a few more minutes," Tina grunted out between her teeth. Just then the door rocked outward for a moment almost throwing her to the ground. She pressed herself back into it and set her feet. "They're not getting through!"  
  
Lex swore and stole a glance at the security monitor. He could count almost twelve soldiers outside the doors, pounding away with a battering ram. Then he forced himself to look away and he went back to his work. Keep going he told himself, sorting through files on the screens in front of him. He was working with nearly half-a-dozen systems, simultaneously coding two different programs; impossible for most people, even in the most optimal of situations.  
  
Which this is definitely not, he cursed. Don't focus on that, he told himself. Work the files, find what you need. You can do this. Tina's strong, she can buy you more time. Let her. You'll need every second.  
  
He stole another glance at the monitor. With a start, he saw that they were bringing in a cutting torch. They'll cut through with that, she won't be able to stop them, he thought.  
  
Don't get sidetracked. If Tina dies, she dies, but this has to be done. You have to do this, you will do this. You're a Luthor.  
  
But I'm also human, he thought.  
  
"Tina, get in here now!" he screamed into the intercom. He could see the red burn marks on the door as the soldiers were starting to slice through it. Tina stared at him for a second and then gave him a frantic nod. The door shook under one last blow and she waited, bracing herself. Then she dashed forwards, running flat out. The door held behind her for another few seconds, and then collapsed inward. Tina was sprinting up the steps to the inner room as the soldiers poured inside in a mass of black uniforms. Lex keyed the door open as she ran, his hand poised over the panic button. She threw herself inside as he smashed the button down. A hasty burst of gunfire ricocheted off the heavily reinforced security glass as the door sealed itself.  
  
Tina lay on the floor for a moment, stunned, then she slowly picked herself up. She gave Lex a worried glance and then stared out through the clear walls. Lex watched as best he could, glancing up only now and then as he continued to work.  
  
The soldiers stormed into the room, securing it in seconds. They were swift and professional; all the bodies were checked and moved outside quickly. He'd been wrong, Lex saw. There were nearly twice as more then he'd seen in the monitor. All fully armed and in full black combat gear. Three soldiers came forwards, but made no move to assault the door. Instead they studied it professionally, murmuring to each other. Lex was tempted to hit the intercom button so he could hear what they were saying, but decided against it. He couldn't spare what little he might have left to listen in.  
  
"Can they get in here?" Tina asked quietly.  
  
"Of course they can," Lex told her softly, still typing furiously.  
  
"How much time do we have?" she asked, her head wiping around as she tried to watch them all.  
  
"That depends on how badly they want us," he said coolly, still typing. "If they could use C4 and kill us both in an instant, or they could take their time and cut through, which means we'd have a few hours."  
  
"How long," she repeated, her voice strained.  
  
"It doesn't matter, Tina. This is out of your hands now. Just be quiet and trust me." He stopped typing long enough to give her a reassuring look. She looked winded and scared, but she nodded finally. He turned back to the monitors and continued to type, forcing himself to focus on the screen. Still, he couldn't help but notice the figure coming down the hallway in the monitor. Angrily, he shut it off with a jab of his hand and went back to work, not looking up. He knew who it was.  
  
With his head down, he couldn't see him he enter the room, but he knew he was there when he heard Tina's breath hiss in. Even then, he refused to look up, still working furiously. There were several seconds of silence in the room, save only for the sound of his typing. Then the intercom clicked on with a rasp and a voice glided out of it.  
  
"Lex. Lex, look at me. Don't demean yourself now. Look at me."  
  
Lex paused in mid-line and let a breath out he hadn't known he was holding. "Hello, father," he said tonelessly as he raised his head.  
  
Lionel stared back at him, his face unreadable. He was holding a communicator in one hand carelessly as he studied him through the glass. Then, his face not showing an inch of emotion, he began to clap, slowly and methodically. "Well done, Lex. Well done." 


	34. Mother

Chapter 33  
  
"What in God's name have you done to yourself?" his father asked, staring at his head. "Tell me, wasn't this all enough for you? Did you really have to shave your head just to shock me?"  
  
"It's nice to know you've still got your sense of humor about this," Lex smiled, looking down as he went back to typing.  
  
"Oh I'm nearly blind with rage, Lex. I just thought I'd get the most obvious thing out of the way first. Now what the hell, have you done to my lab?" he demanded.  
  
"I think it's fairly obvious what I'm doing," he said savoring it. He glanced up, smiling at his father. "I've quit. This is my letter of resignation."  
  
His father went red in the face and his lips twitched. "Lex, I expected...," he started, but floundered, apparently rendered inarticulate with fury. "There are limits to...," he tried again.  
  
"You expected me to act like a Luthor?" Lex supplied. "That there are limits to what a tidy little uprising entails? You still don't understand: this isn't just another little power play between you and me, this is it. I'm not just quitting the company, I quitting you."  
  
Lionel stared at him, his face hardening into a mask. Lex returned his gaze through the glass steadily, not faltering. Then abruptly his father smirked, shaking his head. "So you're ready to be your own man now, is that it?" he mused. "I remember when I made that choice." He glanced at the broken, smoking door to the lab and smiled. "The smoke in the air lends a bit of familiarity to the situation," he said to himself. "We're more alike than either of us care to admit."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"It's not important," his father told him. "Oh, stop being a child and come out of there," he demanded. "Either admit you lost and walk out like a man or stay in there and sulk. I can always have you dragged out of there." He glanced significantly at the soldiers surrounding them.  
  
"Where did you find them by the way? They're not your normal goon squad?" Lex asked to buy time. He lowered his eyes and started to type quickly as his father answered.  
  
"The LuthorCorps are useful, but certain jobs require a level of finesse and secrecy they lack. I find them useful from time to..." his voice trialed off as he turned back. "What are you doing? Stop that. Stop that right now."  
  
Lex ignored him and kept typing. Impatiently, Lionel signaled to one of the soldiers. Immediately, he lowered his weapon and went over to one of the consoles still left on and began to type. "It doesn't matter what you're trying to do, Lex. Whatever little gambit you've got left, it won't change anything. I've won."  
  
"Have you now?" Lex asked, still typing.  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Tell me, have you found Clark and his brother yet?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know who I'm talking about." Lex spared a moment to give him a quick grin. "I've made some interesting new friends in the last few days. I think you'd like them. I can imagine one's dying to meet you."  
  
His father stared at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching rapidly. "Are you saying you found- You found him?"  
  
"I did more than find him," Lex smiled.  
  
There was a sudden commotion outside the door that made them all turn. As they watched a group of soldiers appeared, dragging two girls behind them. Lex felt his heart lurch as he saw who it was. He glanced back at Tina and saw her staring back, horrified.  
  
"Sir!" Lana yelled out frantically, struggling with the soldiers holding her. "Sir! Lex is behind all this. He's joined with the alien! I saw them together!"  
  
"Yes, yes that's become very clear," Lionel said evenly, looking from her to Chloe. "Where did you find her?"  
  
"She was with them, they had a base on the outskirts of town in the badlands," Lana started, nodding at Chloe, but Lionel cut her off.  
  
"No, I wasn't talking to you, dear."  
  
"She was driving up to the base with the other one," one of the soldiers answered. He shook Lana roughly. "This one tried to use the other as a hostage. She claims to be 'Corps, but you said to take anyone prisoner, so..."  
  
"She is," Lionel told him slowly, turning briefly to look back at Lex, "but why don't we keep her out of the way for now," he said slowly, staring at her.  
  
"Sir! Mr. Luthor!" Lana pleaded. "Please, I came to find you! Let me help you!"  
  
"Just let me handle this, Lana!" he commanded her. She stared at him, her mouth open in disbelief. "I am going to figure this out," he said, turning his back on her and facing Lex. "Starting with who exactly I can trust. Lex, listen to me. Come out of there right now. This is your last warning."  
  
Lex ignored him, staring past him at Chloe. She was avoiding his eyes though, staring down at the floor. He could see the fresh bruises on her jaw and wondered what had happened back at the base. But there was no time for that now. He looked back down and went back to work.  
  
"Dammit!" his father screamed outside the walls. He smacked his fist against the glass, fuming. "What is he doing in there?" he barked back at the soldier working on the console.  
  
"I'm not sure," he said back, slowly. "He's got me locked out of most of the systems. All I can tell is that he's accessing massive amounts of data from the archives, but it doesn't look like it's anything technical. I don't know what to make of it," he admitted, flustered.  
  
"Can you shut him down from here?"  
  
"The only way to do that would be to crash the main computer."  
  
"That would cost us billions," Lionel muttered, staring at Lex.  
  
"It might be the only way."  
  
He stared off into space for a moment and then nodded. "Not yet though. See if you can hack through. Let's save that for a last resort."  
  
"I really think you have more important things to worry about right now," Lex said over the intercom. He kept working as he talked, buying as much time as he could.  
  
"More of your friends then? How did you arrange all this? Where did you find him?"  
  
"That's only one question you should be asking: Where is he now?"  
  
Lionel stared at him, furious, and then snapped a look at another of the soldiers. "We don't know, sir," the unlucky man admitted, quailing under Lionel's gaze. "The second target has been sighted near the east entrance, but there's been no report about the first one."  
  
"Find him then!" he snapped.  
  
"I can do it! Let me go!" Lana burst out, straining against the men holding her. "Please! Let me help you!"  
  
"She wasn't to go back to him so badly, why don't you let her?" Lex goaded his father. "I know he wants to see her, she's part of the reason he came here after all."  
  
Lana blanched. "Shut up! I don't, not like..."  
  
"What do you mean?" Lionel asked Lex slowly, studying Lana.  
  
"He's came here for her. He wanted to save her from all this. Of course, she wasn't the only one, but he wanted to save her first. He's in love with her. Don't ask me why. We know how Lana feels of course. Hell, you've paid good money to make her feel that way. She's obsessed with him. But obsessions a tricky thing, you just never can tell where it's going to point."  
  
"I would never! No, don't listen to him!" Lana screamed. "Please, sir, you have to believe me. I would never!"  
  
"What do you mean by 'not the only one'?" Lionel asked.  
  
"Who's the only one left?" Lex answered. He glanced up to see the blood drain out of his father's face. "He wants his whole family back. Brother, girlfriend, and mother."  
  
Lionel snapped around, his red hair bright against his chalk-white face. "Find him now! Find him!"  
  
Clark stared at the door in front of him and hefted Hamilton slightly. "This is it, isn't it?" he asked quickly. Hamilton groaned and hardly moved his head, he'd been fading in and out of consciousness for a while now, and with each spell gradually getting longer. It didn't matter now though, Clark thought. He stared up at the door, it had to be the right one. He could just feel it was someway.  
  
Slowly, he put Hamilton down by the side of the hallway and approached the door. He touched it almost reverently, feeling the heavy, cold metal underneath his fingertips. 'Lab 2' was stenciled onto it in bright red letters. He let his fingers find their way into the seam in the middle of the doorway, and then with a grunt and scream of protesting metal, he pushed them both back. There was another door a few feet beyond that one though, and this time he couldn't see a seam.  
  
"Dammit," he breathed out, searching around for something, anything. It was useless though, his x-ray vision couldn't penetrate the metal and there was nothing to grab onto, it could have been just another wall with how it joined the floor.  
  
"This is it," he reminded himself quietly. "Don't screw up." He bent down and with a sudden motion, punched his hands into the floor. He felt around in the rubble, trying to find the edge of the door. He dug his fingers in deeper, pushing them through cement and steel with little effort. Then finally, he felt his fingers curl around the edge. Grimacing, he set his feet and began to pull.  
  
In the back of his mind, he guessed that it was the same type of door as the one outside his brother's cell. Breaking through it had been almost more than both of them could bear, and now he didn't have his brother with him. He was alone. The door didn't even lift an inch as he strained against it. His back burned with every second, his arms quivering uncontrollably. Somewhere, he could feel legs far off, sinking into the ground as he pushed.  
  
I can't do this, part of him cried out. I'm not strong enough.  
  
You have to, another part shouted. You don't have a choice. You could fail before, but now it's for her. You can't fail her.  
  
"I... won't!" he grunted out, his arms now pieces of lead. He thought he could hear groaning metal, faint and far off, but it was drowned out by his heart beat, thundering in his ears. "I can!" he cried out, trying to stand up, his eyes screwed shut so tightly he could see stars behind them. He opened his mouth again but all that came out was a primal scream as he threw his arms upward. There was a crash that even he could hear over his thundering heart and then he sagged to the floor, completely spent.  
  
He lay there unknowing, for a time, his breath heaving in and out, his arms and legs sending him distant messages of pain. Then slowly, things started to reassert themselves. He could see the ground in front of his eyes and feel the biting ache from his body. One of his arms was splayed out in front of him and he was dully shocked to see blood leaking out from underneath his fingertips.  
  
Dully, he realized that he'd reached his limit, this was it. He'd always wondered if there was a point where even his body would give in, and now he'd reached it. But that didn't matter, the door was open. Somehow, past the pain and ache from his arms and legs, he struggled to his feet, clinging to the sides of the doorway just to stay up. Grimacing, almost dizzy from the effort, he stumbled inside.  
  
Clark fell as the walls disappeared around him. He stared around, surprised at what he saw. He had expected something similar to what he'd found outside his brother's cell, rows of computers and machinery. Instead, the room was as empty and dark as a tomb, save for a single spot of light at the far end. The walls he'd been bracing himself against disappeared into darkness.  
  
"Hello!" he called out, his voice echoing back to him. "Are you here?" He pushed himself back to his feet and stumbled forwards towards the light. It was so blinding that he had trouble distinguishing anything inside it. "Mom! Are you there?"  
  
The light dimmed suddenly and Clark blinked, trying to focus his eyes. Then he stared upwards, his mouth hanging open.  
  
It was a web, something like a web, hanging down from the blackness of the ceiling. The strands were a mix of metal fibers and wiring. Monitors, like trapped flies, were wired haphazardly into it, flashing mutely with random images of landscapes and people, some he recognized, some that he did not. Lights hung as well, flickering uncertainly. Two great strands were anchored to the floor and in between them hung a woman.  
  
She hung forward, her long red hair hiding her face. She was wearing a long white gown that feel past her feet, making her seem to hover there, ghostlike. Clark drew closer, staring at her, almost horrified. He could see wires running into her skin, joining her to the web. He reached out and touched one, feeling the tiny strand in his fingers. She moved slightly, swaying in the web, and he jerked his hand back quickly.  
  
"Mother?" he whispered.  
  
The screens hanging in the web blinked off all at once. Then one clicked on, and Clark was shocked to see himself looking out of it. Then another turned on, and another, all of them showing Clark, or pieces of his life. He watched himself toddling through the farm or swinging from the tree as a child. There was himself a few years ago, hanging from the pole in the field, Lana's necklace burning on his chest; there he was pulling Lex from the water; there he was learning how to control his heat vision.  
  
He stared around, watching them all. "You've been watching me?" He turned back to her in awe.  
  
She was staring back at him, her eyes shining with their own light. It was his mother's face, but it was not, in some way. There was something endless in it, like something great had left its mark on her. Her eyes held him tightly; he didn't even seem to breathe. All of the monitors were now filled with the image of Clark's face.  
  
"I've been watching all of you," she said quietly. Her voice was like a faint echo, shimmering as it faded away. "All of you, my sons." The monitors were flashing with different scenes now, places and images Clark had never seen before. He saw himself, but in lives he'd never lived. He saw himself with different families, growing up in different parts of the world. He even thought he caught a glimpse of himself in the Luthor Mansion, eating with Lex and his father.  
  
"What is all this?" he asked, staring at the different scenes.  
  
"All of you," she said warmly. She stared at the screens her face twisted with a kind of longing melancholy. "I watch them sometimes when it gets cold here. So cold and alone."  
  
"All of these are me? These are other versions?"  
  
"Yes," she said, still watching. "So many. There are so many," she said faintly.  
  
"Why me? Why did you choose me?" he asked.  
  
She looked down at him slowly, her eyes glowing. "Yours was the closest. And the warmest. So many good memories, so much love. I knew you could do it. Only you could."  
  
"I'm here," he promised. "I came. I'll save you."  
  
"You don't understand," she said faintly. Her voice trailed off as she stared into the blackness around them. The light dimmed around them as her features went slack. Clark stared at her in confusion.  
  
"What? What don't I understand?" he asked, trying to get her attention. She remained comatose though and he swore, trying to figure out what to do. Hesitantly he touched one of the wires, trying to figure a way to get it out of her skin without hurting her. Suddenly her voice came back startling clear, making him freeze.  
  
"He knows you're here," she said sharply, the light shining brighter around them. Clark was about to ask who, when there was a crackling hiss above them and a voice came out of what sounded like an intercom.  
  
"Clark, is it? I think... I think it's time we made a deal," Lionel Luthor's voice echoed back and forth in the darkness. 


	35. Deals

Chapter 34  
  
"I know you're there, answer me," Lionel demanded, his voice crackling over the intercom. Clark stared up into the darkness, trying to make out anything in the inky blackness of the ceiling.  
  
"He can't see you, there aren't any cameras," his mother said faintly. She was staring at intently, almost studying him.  
  
"How does he know I'm here then?"  
  
"Because I can hear you just fine," Lionel's voice snapped back. His mother nodded slowly. "And because this base is still here, I know Martha... the Oracle is still with you."  
  
"What do you mean?" Clark shouted.  
  
"The wires," she whispered, gazing up at them for a moment.  
  
"The wires holding her are, among other things, triggers. If too many of them are removed or severed, this entire facility will self- destruct immediately, with the epi-center of the blast right beneath your feet."  
  
Clark's breath hissed out, staring at them. He could see the tiny filaments inside them now. "How do I get rid of them?" he asked frantically. His mother stared at him silently. "Tell me! You told me about the trackers in the car, why not now?!" She remained silent, watching him. "I'm trying to save you! Tell me!"  
  
"You can't leave with her, I won't let you," Lionel promised him. "I'll see this base burned down with all of us in it before I let you even lay a finger on her. I swear it."  
  
Clark turned around, glaring upwards blindly. "I'm not leaving without her!" he shouted. "Do you hear me!"  
  
Lex watched his father as he sweated over the microphone. Everyone's eyes were on him. Lana and Chloe stood forgotten for the moment, but they stood still, listening. Chloe's face had lit up the moment they'd heard Clark's voice over the intercom. Lana's had sunk, confused and almost frightened. She was standing alone, her hand's still bound, staring at Lionel.  
  
Surreptiously, Lex, touched a few keys, turning the intercoms on through out the base. Now everyone could hear what was going on. Then quietly, he signaled to Tina.  
  
"What are you doing?" she hissed at him. "I can't see what you're-"  
  
"It's not important," he whispered back to her. "Not now at least. I need you to be ready for something. If we get separated, plan ichiban, do you understand?"  
  
She looked at him and then nodded. "I think so."  
  
"Make for Chloe when I give the signal. You'll know when you hear it," he promised her.  
  
"Clark...," his father said slowly, trying out the name. "Clark, none of us need to lose today. You can't have her, but I can be generous."  
  
"I don't want your generosity," Clark's voice crackled out of the speakers.  
  
Somewhere inside the base, Joseph turned, listening as the intercom crackled to life. He backhanded one of the 'Corps guards absently and stared at the speaker set into the wall. Pete stumbled towards him, kicking a guard that was trying to climb to his feet. "What the hell?" he asked, listening.  
  
"Are we done here?" Joseph asked.  
  
"Well, we've got this exit secured," Pete started, "but we still need to link up with the-" He stopped as Joseph started to walk down the corridor. "Hey, where are you going?" he called out.  
  
"My generosity is the only thing keeping you alive right now," Lionel said intently, all his attention focused on the intercom. "I could flood that room with troops, men enough to even swamp you. But I'm reasonable. I'll let you walk out of there right now. Go."  
  
"Not without her," Clark's voice came back defiantly.  
  
Lionel flushed a dark red, but his voice remained icy calm as he spoke. "If you try and fight this, she will die. That's not a threat, but a fact. Even if you beat off everyone I can send, even if you both survive the bomb, she will die if you remove her from that web."  
  
Clark stared back at his mother, his heart pounding. She stared back at him, and slowly nodded.  
  
"She can't survive without me," Lionel said into the mike. "Those wires keep her safe, and alive. There's nothing you can do, there is no treatment or any antidote. No doctor in the world can save her, I've looked. Her body is too weak, she won't last. All that can be done is keep her in stasis, just as she is now. I'm the only one who can keep her alive."  
  
There was silence over the intercom. Everyone in the room listened intently, waiting. Lex listened as well, still typing frantically. Suddenly there was a chirping sound coming from Lionel's pocket. He fished inside and angrily produced a cell phone, hitting a button to silence it. "Don't be a fool," he said into the mike. "I'm offering you your life here. You don't have to give up your mother, we can reach some arrangement. Don't life your life away, or your brother's."  
  
"Yes, I'll give him to you as well," he promised. Lana's head snapped up, staring at him horrified. "His life, for hers. You can have him if you leave right now."  
  
Still there was silence over the air. Lionel's phone rang again and he shut silence it again, flinging it away this time. It clattered away and disappeared underneath the computers.  
  
"No, you can't do this," Lana whispered. "You promised me..."  
  
"If you leave the base right now, I'll give them all to you," Lionel said, ignoring her. "All of them, the general's daughter, Lex, all your friends. I have them here, they're safe. But you have to leave now."  
  
"If you harm any of them...," Clark's voice came back suddenly. Lionel smiled, letting out a gasp of relief. His phone chirped on again somewhere, but everyone ignored it.  
  
"That depends on you, doesn't it? So many of them, it would be horrible if something happened."  
  
"Sir, please. Don't deal with him! This isn't..."  
  
"Lana?" Clark exclaimed surprised. "What are you... You shouldn't be here!"  
  
Lionel turned around slowly, staring at her. "She is," he said quietly into the mike. Lana stood there, staring at him. "She's right here with me now. She's safe, for the moment."  
  
"Don't... Don't you dare," Clark voice snarled out.  
  
"You're the own who took her, aren't you. So that much was true," Lionel said quietly. Lana stared at him, shaking her head back and forth, desperately. "I wonder how much else is true." He paused, and then spoke clearly into the mike. "I'll give you your brother, friends, and her, if you leave right now. If you don't agree, I will give the order to kill them, starting with her."  
  
"No, please, no," Lana was pleading. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I promise I'll be good, I promise. Don't... Don't do this." She sank to her knees, her body shaking. "I'll be good, don't..." her voice choked up, trailing off.  
  
Lex watched her sadly as his father traded her away. Now she's really a Luthor, he thought to himself.  
  
"I'm waiting," Lionel said quietly. His cell phone rang quietly somewhere as everyone waited. Lex watched the dull red creep up the back of his father's neck. Still there was no answer.  
  
Clark stared into space, trying to think of something. "What can I do," he muttered. "What do I do?" he asked again, looking up at his mother frantically.  
  
She only watched him in silence.  
  
"Why don't you tell me? I'm trying to help you, what should I do?"  
  
"What can you do?" she asked.  
  
"What can I do? I can't give you up," he said desperately. "But I can't give them up either. They're my friends, my brother, I can't."  
  
"No, you can't," she said kindly. "I was right." He opened his mouth to answer, but she shook her head. "Don't speak. Just be ready. You'll need to be fast."  
  
"Fine," Lionel rasped. His patience was clearly at an end. He turned to Lana and stared down at her silently. She shook, curled up into a ball on the floor. "Soldier, if you would be so kind as to shoot-"  
  
"I don't think that will be necessary," Lex said quietly into the intercom. He could hear his voice echoing in the hallway so he knew that everyone could still hear them. "Ichiban, Pete, ichiban."  
  
In the halls, Pete stopped short, hardly believing his ears. "Out, get out now!" he shouted frantically, ordering everyone back. "Run! Make for the hospital." He paused, looking back down the halls as the rest of his men turned and ran. Then he followed after them, running for all he was worth.  
  
"What are you talking about now?" his father demanded.  
  
Lex smiled and glanced up at him, still typing. "You're not the one holding all the card's here," he told his father.  
  
"What are you planning?"  
  
"Secrets, father. Yours, mine, this company's; all of them. How much do you think they would be worth? Quite a lot to the right person."  
  
Lionel stared at him, confused and then he looked down at Lex's hand, still typing away. "The archives," he gasped suddenly, staring back up at him. "You're accessing the archives!"  
  
Lex smiled back at him. "I am. Every little secret we have, every dirty little bit of knowledge you've had her gather up for you, to blackmail, to threaten people with, I'm getting rid of it."  
  
His father seemed to relax slightly. "Deleting it won't change anything."  
  
"Who said I'm going to delete it. I'm going to share them. Secrets only stop being secrets when everyone knows," he said quietly, still typing. "News groups, chat rooms, I'm sure they'll all be very interested."  
  
"Stop him!" he yelled, spinning around to the soldier manning the computer.  
  
"I can't!" he said. "He's got me locked out!"  
  
"Find a way!" Lionel shouted at him, turning back to Lex. "This is suicide Lex, you wouldn't dare. This would bury both of us, this company. We're both just as guilty."  
  
"Yes, yes we are," Lex said quietly.  
  
"I know you, Lex. I know how you think. I'm you're father. You're not going to do this. You're smarter than this. You won't destroy yourself, or this company, just to get rid of me. What's left for you then? You'll have nothing."  
  
Lex stopped typing, staring down at his hands. "Do you remember how my mother used to always beat you at chess?" he asked softly.  
  
His father blinked in surprise, taken aback. "Yes," he said slowly.  
  
"Did you ever wonder how she did it?"  
  
"You're mother was a grand player. She was the only one who could always beat me. She could have been a master if she'd applied herself to it."  
  
"That's not it," Lex disagreed. "She told me how; it's very simple. Would you like to know?" He looked up, smiling softly at his father. "She told me that you're greatest weakness is that you always think, everyone thinks like you. You won't, or can't, imagine any other way of doing things." He glanced down at his hands and then back up at his father. "She always beat you, because she never played by your rules."  
  
"Lex, you can't..." his father said aghast. Lex smiled at him, shaking his head as he started to chuckle. His father spun around and screamed at the soldier. "Crash the mainframe. Stop him now!"  
  
Lex laughed harder and spun the monitor around in front of him. "It's too late for that." His father stared at the screen, his eyes going wide. It was full of symbols, random words, and rows and rows of mindless letters. "I did it five minutes ago. It's all out there right now. Why do you think they've been trying to reach you so badly?" he asked.  
  
The ringing from the cellphone was suddenly painfully loud. Lionel stared at his son in complete shock. Behind him, the soldiers milled around uncertainly. Lex leaned over and hit the intercom once more. "Clark, take your mother and run now. Trust me."  
  
Lex looked up at his father, his smile fading. "Goodbye," he said quietly.  
  
"-Trust me." Something in his voice erased all the doubt from Clark's mind. He glanced up at his mother and saw her nod back at him.  
  
"I'm ready," she said softly. Slowly and with great effort, she raised her hands towards him. "Be quick."  
  
He was. There was speed, and then there was how he moved then. What was left in him, everything went into this run. He grabbed his mother, ignoring her cry of pain as the wires tore out of her skin, ignoring the ground smoking underneath his feet, even ignoring his tearing conscious as he left his friends behind; he ignored everything except speed. In a moment, they were gone.  
  
And in the next, the LuthorCorp labs exploded. 


	36. Smoke and Heat

Chapter 35  
  
Tina cried out as she fell, tripping over a piece of rubble, bringing Chloe down with her. Chloe fell hard on her burned leg, crying out as well. They lay there in the smoky blackness, alarms going off somewhere in what was left of the labs. Rubble littered the corridors, pieces of cement and ceiling with steel bars that stuck up waiting to trip them. They could hear the roar of a fire raging somewhere nearby, and beyond that were the frail calls for help. Chloe tried to piece together how exactly they were still alive.  
  
As the base had started to shake, Tina had sprinted out the inner room and grabbed Chloe, hurling both of them out of the monitor chamber. Then everything had seemed to explode and all Chloe could remember was a rush of ear-splitting noise. Then she'd come out of the blackness suddenly to find half her leg on fire. Tina had been beside her in an instant, beating it out with her hands. Then without a word, she'd scooped up Chloe and started to carry her out through the labs. But then, another explosion had gone off behind them, picking the girls up and hurling them down the halls. Tina had taken the brunt of it and could hardly move. And so now, both of them were trying to hobble to safety, each supporting the other, as they tried to get out of the labs.  
  
"Where are we now?" Chloe asked, pushing herself up to her knees. Her arms were quivering dangerously. She didn't know if she even had the strength to get herself up, let alone help Tina.  
  
"Lift my head," Tina rasped at her. Chloe winced as she touched her shoulder, feeling her fingers sink into her skin a little. Tina was worse off than she'd thought if she couldn't even keep herself together anymore.  
  
She pulled her up and tried to hold her as best she could. "Hurry," she wheezed.  
  
Tina squinted around them. Her eyes were almost swollen shut. "I think... I think we're going in the wrong way. We need to go back, that way," she nodded her head slightly to the right. She closed her eyes and Chloe let her sink back down gratefully. They lay there amongst the rubble for a while, listening to explosions going off around the base.  
  
"Where's Lex?" she asked weakly.  
  
"Back there, I think," Tina said weakly. "I don't know."  
  
"What about Clark?"  
  
"I don't..." Tina trailed off and then she shook her head. "I don't know."  
  
Chloe closed her eyes and breathed out, trying to gather her strength. "Come'on," she said, pushing herself back up. "We have to keep going."  
  
"I don't know if I can." Tina's voice was almost a whisper.  
  
"Try," Chloe wheezed at her. She grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. The strain almost put her back on her knees again. "Come'on," she grunted, staggering forwards.  
  
"Someone's coming," Tina wheezed into her ear. "Up... ahead."  
  
Chloe looked up, trying to see through the smoke. She could just make out a figure coming towards them. It was a man's figure, tall with broad shoulders and a walk she thought she recognized. "Clark!" she cried out, pulling Tina with her a few feet. Her voice died out as he came closer.  
  
He looked like Clark, but it wasn't him. Still, the resemblance was too great for him to be anyone other than his 'brother'. There were differences though, the metal patch over his eye, his wild and shaggy hair, even the line of his jaw seemed more narrower. Chloe stared at him, feeling her heart thumping. His clothing was ripped and he seemed to be bleeding from one of his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice the wound. He stared at them intensely, one of his hands clenching up.  
  
"Who are you?" Even his voice sounded different from Clark's. It was more abrupt colder. "You're not LuthorCorp."  
  
"We're not," Tina rasped at him. "We're friends. Clark's friends."  
  
He stared down at Tina, his eye narrowing. "You are different. You're not human." He looked up at Chloe. "What about you?'  
  
Chloe stared back at him hard. For a moment, what Lana had said reared back up in her mind, but she pushed it back down, thinking about Tina. "I'm a friend too. She needs help. You have to get her out of here."  
  
He looked at her and then back down at Tina. Finally he stared back down the hall. "In a minute," he said quietly. And then amazingly, he started to walk past them.  
  
"No! Not in a minute, right fucking now!" Chloe yelled at him. He kept going, ignoring her. Chloe let Tina fall to the ground and searched around frantically.  
  
"What are you doing?" Tina mumbled, wincing.  
  
Chloe scooped up a fist-sized hunk of concrete in her hand and chucked it at him with all her strength. It stuck the back of his head and he stumbled, probably more from surprise than anything. He spun around, snarling at her.  
  
"Chloe!" Tina rasped. Chloe ignored her though, watching Clark's brother as he stomped back down the hallway towards her. He stopped in front of her, towering over her. He was literally quivering with rage as he stood over her, both of his hands now clenching and unclenching. She glared right back at him, not budging an inch.  
  
"Who do you think you are?" he snarled at her.  
  
"Somebody you owe." His eye narrowed slightly as she went on. "She needs to get to a hospital; she'll die if she doesn't." He didn't respond. "Look, she risked her life for you, the least you can do-"  
  
"Alright," he grunted. "Don't ever do that again though." He bent down and none to gently picked up Tina and slung her over his shoulder. She moaned slightly and then was quiet. He reached for Chloe brusquely, but she fell back, smacking at his hand.  
  
"Don't-, just don't touch me," she muttered, stepping away from him. "I can manage."  
  
"Suit yourself, girl," he remarked.  
  
"It's Chloe, Chloe Sullivan," she snapped at him.  
  
He shrugged. "I didn't ask."  
  
"Fine, whatever. Look, do you know the way out of here?"  
  
"It's back that way," he nodded where he had come from. "I left the other one, Pete, there."  
  
"Pete, is he okay?"  
  
"He was when I left, but that was before someone decided to blow this place up." He paused and looked back at her. "That wasn't you, was it?"  
  
"Lex did it," she remarked. He stared at her a moment and then grunted, thinking. Without another word he started down the hallway, making Chloe limp after him to keep up. He seemed not to notice his wounds, the uneven ground, or the still raging fires throughout the base. Chloe sweated and groaned as she hobbled after them as best she could.  
  
Coughing, she paused at an intersecting hallway to try and catch her breath. The air was full of smoke and she couldn't see which hall he and Tina had disappeared down. "Hey!" she tried to yell, unsure of what to call him. "Hey, you! Clark's brother!" She listened, but there wasn't any response.  
  
She stumbled forwards a few more steps and her feet kicked something soft and yielding. It was a LuthorCorp soldier, lying on his side. Unsure of whether he was dead or just unconscious, Chloe started to edge around him, but something caught her eye. Clutched in one of his hands, was a meteor gun. She paused for a moment, thinking, and then she bent down and pried it away from him. The light on its side was still green, it still seemed to be working. Quickly, she shoved it into her waistband behind her, and continued on.  
  
"Are all of you this fragile?" a voice called idly down the hallway, making her jump. She looked up to see Clark's brother walking back down the hallway towards her. Tina was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"What happened to Tina?" Chloe coughed, choking on some smoke. She wondered, afraid, if he'd seen what she'd done.  
  
If he had, he didn't seem to show it. "I dropped her off with the others. Your friend, Pete, is fine," he added.  
  
"Good," she coughed, hobbling towards him.  
  
He stared at her. "This would be quicker if you let me help you," he remarked.  
  
"I don't need it," she snapped at him, giving him a wide berth as she limped past him. He turned around and shrugged, watching her. "How much farther is it?"  
  
"Not too much," he said, following her slowly. She glanced back at him nervously, not liking him behind her. The bulge behind her waist felt very noticeable right now. "By the way," he said suddenly, "its Joseph, not 'Clark's brother'."  
  
She almost stumbled. "You heard me?"  
  
"I hear a lot," he said, glancing back down the hallway. For the first time, he seemed impatient. "Are you going to be alright now?" he asked hurriedly.  
  
"What? Why? Do you hear something?"  
  
"Someone," he answered. "Can you make it the rest of the way? It's just down the end of his hallway."  
  
"I think so," she said slowly.  
  
"Good," he said shortly and just like that, he was gone.  
  
Chloe stared after him and then went on. "Joseph, huh," she muttered to herself. She felt the cold metal pressed against her back and shivered briefly.  
  
A hand poked itself out of a mass of debris and then slowly, another followed. The rubble shifted and a man's head appeared, gasping for air loudly. Groaning with effort, he clawed his way out of pile of rubble until, shivering and moaning, he pulled himself free. His clothing, once a finely tailored suit, was reduced to rags. Blood and dust caked his wild brown hair together in clumps. He lay there, shivering in the darkness, his body covered with welts and cuts. Battered, bloody, but still alive.  
  
"Alive!" Lionel gasped, triumphant. Shakily, he pushed himself to his feet and stared around. The monitoring room was in shambles, the bodies of soldiers were strewn about. He glanced around for any other survivors, but he couldn't find any. He couldn't even find Lana or that other girl's bodies. The bombs had done their work well. His lab, his precious lab, was in ruins. But he was still alive, he assured himself. Somehow, he had survived it all. He could rebuild, he could always rebuild. "Too bad, Lex," he said. "Too bad."  
  
"Too bad," a voice agreed with him. He spun around, staring around him wildly. The lights had all been knocked out by the explosions, leaving most of the room in darkness. Somewhere, he could hear footsteps echoing towards him, coming closer.  
  
"Who's there?" he called out. There was no answer save for the footsteps, getting louder and louder. "Anyone?" Faintly, he saw a red glow appear out of the darkness. "Is anyone there?" he yelled.  
  
The light kept growing brighter and brighter. He wiped at his forehead, suddenly sweating. It was coming nearer, he realized. "Who's out there?" he tried one last time. As Lionel listened, incredibly, he began to hear someone humming. It took him a few moments to place the tune, but when he did, he felt his heart give a lurch. He could feel the heat radiating from the light like some great furnace as it came closer. "Oh no," he moaned softly. "Oh no."  
  
As the final few bars of 'Ding-Dong The Witch is Dead,' faded away, a great rush of light and heat engulfed Lionel and in an instant, he was consumed.  
  
Joseph knelt down and pushed his fingers through the pile of ash on the floor, humming cheerfully to himself once again. Then he rubbed his hands together to get the ash off them and stood up. Still humming, he peered around the room for a moment and then found what he was looking for. Making sure to step on the pile of ash, he crossed through the monitoring chamber and climbed haphazardly toward the remains of the inner room.  
  
The walls had held up well against the force of the blast, but the computer consoles hadn't faired as well. Grunting, Joseph lifted them up and tossed them away, searching through the rubble. Finally he found what he was looking for. He threw aside the last computer and stared down at the body hidden underneath it.  
  
He was still alive, Joseph realized. For a moment, he was sorely tempted to fix that, despite everything Clark had told him. It would be so easy, no one would know, he told himself. He should have died in a blast like that. It would have wrapped up everything so much nicer. Still debating with himself, he reached out towards him slowly.  
  
The body shook suddenly and started to cough. Joseph paused and then pulled his hand back, watching him. Still coughing, the man rolled over, his eyes going wide as he saw him. Joseph stared back at him, evenly. "You're Lex Luthor, aren't you?" he asked.  
  
Lex nodded, spitting out a wad of blood on the floor. He coughed again and glanced at him. "Yes, I am." He tried to stand, but fell back, his face going pale as he clutched at his leg.  
  
"It's broken in three places," Joseph told him coolly, not making a move to help him up. "There's no way you can walk on it."  
  
"Doesn't look like it," Lex muttered. He looked up at Joseph, breathing heavily, his face strained. Joseph saw his gaze flash towards his eye patch and then move quickly away, something he was getting used to people doing.  
  
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I couldn't do this sooner," Lex told him.  
  
Joseph looked back down, through the walls, towards the pile of ash on the floor. He hesitated, thinking for a moment. "Did you really blow this place up?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Clark did it really, but I told him too." He stared at him. "Did he get his mother out?"  
  
"I don't know. I couldn't find him anywhere."  
  
"My father... Chloe and Tina? Did they...?"  
  
"Alive enough to throw a rock at me. They're fine."  
  
"And my father?"  
  
Joseph nodded back down towards the floor. "After the explosion? I doubt you'd be able to find much left of him."  
  
Lex nodded, lying back down. "So what now? Are you going to get it over with or what?"  
  
Joseph paused and then reached down and pulled him up so that he was an inch in front of his face. "This is what Clark wanted, not me," he said tightly. "If I had my way..."  
  
"I wouldn't blame you," Lex said back to him, unafraid. "If the situations were reversed, who knows what I'd do?"  
  
Joseph carried him down the stairs. "Just so we're clear: if you ever try and put me in a box again, you'll be dead before you know it," he warned him.  
  
"Noted," Lex grunted, wincing. They reached the bottom of the stairs and Lex signaled for him to stop. "Wait, is there anyone else alive?" he asked, staring around.  
  
"No one, why?" Joseph asked, staring around with his x-ray vision.  
  
"Never-mind," Lex muttered.  
  
"Are we done here now" he snapped, hefting Lex. "I'm sick of this place."  
  
"That's the one thing we can both agree on," Lex told him. 


	37. Hospital

Chapter 36  
  
Pete kicked the hospital doors open and strode in, his shotgun half-way raised. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he called out to the startled doctors, nurses, and patients waiting. "Can I have your attention? Anyone who's not wearing a stethoscope or has something serious; it's time to head on home. Hospital's closed." Behind him, the doors swung open again as his people swarmed in, wounded, tired, and supporting each other.  
  
"Hey, what are you-"someone started to rise up in protest, but Pete pushed him back down with the but of his gun.  
  
"You want to stay healthy?" he asked. "Well, find somewhere else to be." The people in the waiting room got the message; in minutes people were leaving the hospital in droves, fighting those who were trying to get in.  
  
"Watch it!" Lex snapped as someone shoved him in their rush to get out. Chloe stumbled, supporting him, and helped him hobble inside. "Pete, make sure we've got this place locked down," Lex called out. "Get some doctors for whoever needs them."  
  
"That would be everybody," Chloe said tiredly, helping him into one of the chairs in the waiting room. Lex nodded wearily, wiping sweat off his face.  
  
"Get the critical ones taken care of first, everyone else can wait. We need to seal this place up."  
  
"Expecting trouble?" Pete asked.  
  
"We blew up my father's lab and trashed his company, not to mention I just dumped enough secrets to fill three seasons worth of X-Files on the internet. I doubt anyone's going to be happy with any of us," he deadpanned.  
  
"Yeah, but who's left?" Chloe asked. "I mean, we took care of LuthorCorp, right?"  
  
Pete and Lex shared a quick nervous look. "There's a lot more to LuthorCorp than just Smallville," Lex explained. "They could still be trouble."  
  
"And aside from them, the police spring to mind," Pete said quickly. "I doubt Ethan's going to feel great about us blowing up his biggest contributor." He turned to Lex. "I'll take care of everything. Chloe, can you take him up to a room – "  
  
"I can wait," Lex protested, but Pete overrode him.  
  
"– and tie him down to the bed if you have to! I'll send a doctor up in a minute," he glanced back at them, "even if it's a gunpoint." He stalked away towards the hospital staff, shouting out orders to them.  
  
"What is this place?" Joseph asked. He was standing alone in the middle of the floor, staring around with obvious disgust. The doctors and staff, still shocked by the sudden invasion of their building, backed up as he glared at them. He wrinkled his nose. "It smells like a lab. I hate labs."  
  
"It's a hospital, a little different," Tina explained. She was being helped onto a gurney by two others. "We're trying to help you, trust us." He looked at her and nodded reluctantly.  
  
Chloe watched him intently. All through the ride to the base, while everyone else had been tying off bandages and shouting into radios, he had stayed silent, sitting in the back of one of the stolen vans. Being around so many people had seemed to unnerve him slightly; even now she could see how he kept his distance from the commotion in the waiting room. It wasn't hard for him; people seemed to naturally avoid him, what with his bloodstained clothing and wild look. He stalked around the waiting room, snarling if anyone came too close to him. Chloe felt the cold of the meteor gun pressed against her spine. She had grabbed it on the spur of the moment, but now she didn't know quite what she had been planning to do with it. She knew what Lana had told her, and though she couldn't be sure it was true, something in her said it was. Joseph had killed her father, and he'd helped them escape. What was she going to do?  
  
Suddenly, Joseph wrinkled his nose and turned around sharply, staring down one of the halls. Without another word, he started down it. Lex caught him leaving and signaled to Chloe. "Follow him, don't let him... do anything," he said quickly.  
  
"Me, why me?" Chloe asked, staring at him.  
  
"Chloe! Now!" Lex snapped at her, wincing and holding his leg.  
  
"Fine," she said angrily. She hurried down the hallway Joseph had disappeared down a few moments ago. More than a few people were running past her in the opposite way, proof enough that he'd gone down here. "Sure, send me after him," she grumbled to herself. "Why not? You and Clark get along fine, hey, go tag after his clone. His psychotic, scary looking, murderous-"she stopped abruptly. She wasn't ready to finish that, not even to think it. She reached behind her and touched the butt of the gun lightly, but then pulled her hand back.  
  
"Not yet," she told herself. "Not yet." She pulled her shirt down lower as she looked around. "Now where is he?" she grumbled. As if on cue, she heard a loud crash from down the end of the hallway. A soda can rolled loudly into view and struck the opposite wall. Chloe raised her eyebrows and hurried towards it, turning the corner quickly.  
  
Joseph had sniffed out the snack machines. He was standing in front of a smashed-in soda machine, turning one of the cans over in his hands, studying it. It seemed that when he couldn't figure out how to work the machines, he'd simply put his fist through one of them. The offending machine sparked and spat out cans around his feet loudly. He turned the can over and tried to twist the entire top off in one quick motion. The can exploded, drenching him. Chloe bit back a laugh as he stood there, dumbfounded, dripping grape soda. He snarled and dropped the can, moving on to the next machine, a coffee dispenser. Joseph didn't even stop to try and figure it out this time, he simply slammed his fist into the front, making it rock back against the wall and then fall back towards him. Chloe took a step forwards as she saw it topple onto him, but Joseph caught it with one hand and pushed it back. As the machine fell back into place he put his hands underneath the dispenser, waiting eagerly. Hot coffee shot out of the nozzle, spraying everywhere, dousing him again. Chloe did laugh this time as he stood there. She stopped laughing abruptly as he shoved the machine again, this time pushing it backwards through the wall.  
  
"Do any of these damn things work?" he yelled at her as the dust cleared.  
  
"Umm... You have to use money," she told him frankly. He looked at her dumbly. "You know, money, coins?" She dug through her pockets and finally found some coins. "Quarters, nickels, that kind of thing?" He stared at them in her hand and then looked around, finally turning around back to the machines. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and then smashed his fist into it and ripped out the money box. He twisted it open with one movement, spilling coins out around his feet. "Yeah, that works too," she admitted.  
  
He bent down and picked up a few of the cans, setting them on a nearby table. Chloe stared at them, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. She picked one up and opened it, draining it quickly. When she finished she was surprised to see Joseph staring at her.  
  
"How did you do that?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"You pull the top up like this," she showed him. He picked another can up and tried again. He got it open without drenching himself, except that he managed to rip up most of the top in the process. Ignoring the jagged metal, Joseph drank it down greedily and reached for another. Chloe watched him quietly.  
  
"First soda?" she asked.  
  
He nodded as he drained another. "Sweet," he belched out finally. He glanced towards the snack machine. "What is all that in there? It doesn't smell like food."  
  
"It's not healthy, but it's edible," she replied. "Why? What are you used to eating?"  
  
"Bread, vegetables, water." He got up and went over to it, staring inside at the snacks. "Sometimes they give me fruit," he added. He raised his fist again, but then paused and looked back at her, quizzically.  
  
"Be my guest," she sighed.  
  
He smashed in another machine and came back with an armload of snacks. Tearing open a packet of candy with his teeth, he started to wolf them down, his eyes growing wide as he ate. "What is this?" he asked, almost in awe.  
  
"Chocolate," she supplied. "Much better than fruit, huh?" He was too busy eating to answer.  
  
She watched him eat for a moment, and then looked around tiredly. Her eyes kept going out of focus and her back sung with pain every time she tried to move. She was going to be one huge bruise in the morning, she thought to herself, but at least she wasn't hurt like Lex or Tina. She glanced at Joseph and saw the dried blood on his shoulder. "Does that hurt?" she asked.  
  
"No," he said in between bites, still tearing into the food.  
  
"Fine, whatever," she sighed.  
  
"You can go now," he told her brusquely.  
  
Chloe blinked and fixed him with a stare. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Leave. You make too much noise."  
  
"Fuck you, alright," she snapped at him. He stopped eating and looked at her quizzically. "I'm not here because I want to be your nanny." She snorted and walked to the end of the room, turning around again. "Nanny, pshh," she grumbled. "You need a leash not a nanny." She glanced at him again and saw him still staring at her with the same confused look. "What?" she snapped.  
  
"What's 'fuck you' mean?" he asked.  
  
Chloe let her breath hiss between her teeth as she counted to ten in her mind. "You'll pick it up," she told him in a tight voice. He shrugged and went back to eating, ignoring her.  
  
She toyed with the hem of her shirt for a moment, thinking. "Can we talk for a minute? Seriously?"  
  
"You can talk," he grunted in between bites.  
  
"Yeah, but do you promise to listen?"  
  
He grunted something that could have been either an affirmative or negative. Taking a deep breath, Chloe went on.  
  
"What do you remember about the labs? What happened to you, I mean."  
  
"'Fuck you'," he said shortly, then smiled. "I get it now."  
  
"I'm being serious," she almost growled at him.  
  
"What do you want to know? I woke up, I watched the wall, I ate what they gave me, I tried to get out, they did their tests, I went back to sleep; that's it." He stopped eating for a moment and glanced at her. "Until Clark."  
  
"Yeah..." She hesitated. "How did you try and get out?"  
  
He stopped again and let out a breath, his face becoming set. "Check the walls," he said in a dull, robot-like voice. "Check for cracks and faults; weak points. Press on the corners, try and find a seam. Scan the floors and ceiling. Check the door; check the sensors. Watch everything. Listen to everything." He said it almost like it was a mantra, and to him, it might have been just that, she realized. "Wait for your chance," he finished, staring at her.  
  
"Did you ever get your chance?" she asked. She put her hands behind her back, feeling the gun through her shirt. Her heart felt like it was thundering, ready to burst out of her chest.  
  
"A few times," he shrugged. "They always caught me though and threw me back in."  
  
Chloe's throat was suddenly dry. She swallowed and asked hoarsely, "Did you ever kill anyone when you tried to get out?"  
  
He smiled one-sidedly. "A few times. Something else Clark would be mad about."  
  
"Do you remember any of them?" Chloe started to say, but Joseph got up abruptly and left the room. She froze, her hand gripped around the butt, and then she scrambled to her feet and ran after him, pulling her shirt lower as she did. "Hey! Slow down! What is it?" He ignored her and walked faster.  
  
"Goddamn it!" she yelled. "You talk back when people talk to you! I know it's a difficult concept, but try and pay attention! Now what's going on?"  
  
"Can't you hear anything?" he asked irritably, spinning around.  
  
"Not a pin dropping three counties over, sorry," she snapped back.  
  
"Well maybe if you didn't talk so much!" He spun around again and stalked down the hall, Chloe following after him.  
  
"So what'd you hear? Did a bird shit on the roof? Someone drop something two states away? Did someone in China say something bad about your mother?!" she called out.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Pete asked, stepping out of nearby room.  
  
"He started it," Chloe said quickly.  
  
"Are they all like this? Tell me they're not all like this!" Joseph demanded from him. "Tell me at least some of them know how to shut up for two fuck seconds!"  
  
"What?" he asked, clearly confused.  
  
"He heard something and he won't tell me what," she said.  
  
Pete looked back at Joseph. "What'd you hear?"  
  
"Clark's back. He's outside," he said quickly. "Now tell her she's not allowed to come near me anymore. She won't listen to me."  
  
Chloe and Pete stared at him for a moment and then broke into a run for the front entrance. Still waiting to be treated by the shanghaied hospital staff, Lex and Tina looked up as they ran past. Just then, the main doors slammed open as a pair of figures stumbled in.  
  
"Room for a couple more in here?" Sarah called out, hunched under the weight of the second person. She tilted to the side and started to tip over. "Little help! Now!" She fell forwards slowly, but suddenly came to a halt in mid-air. The person she was carrying had reached over in flash of motion and had grabbed hold of the doorframe, stopping both of them. Chloe and Pete stopped dead, their mouths open in amazement. They could see the way his fingers had sunk into the metal, making it bend like it was tinfoil. Then slowly, almost painfully, he pulled them both back up. Sarah stumbled away from him, panting for breath as he stood there, still clutching the doorframe. Then he looked over at them and smiled slightly.  
  
"Clark!" Chloe yelled, forgetting about everything else. She dashed forwards, hardly believing her eyes. But there he was, his hair matted and his clothes torn. "Clark!" she said again as she ran into him, almost bowling him over as she hugged him.  
  
"Ooh, easy," Clark wheezed, hugging her back gingerly. "I'm okay."  
  
"Really?" she asked, blinking away tears.  
  
"No, not really, but its close." He smiled at her again, but she couldn't help but see the bleeding cut on his forehead and the way his eyes were unfocused.  
  
"Get a doctor, now!" Pete screamed back at everyone and then rushed up to Clark, trying to take his arm.  
  
"No..." Clark protested, pushing him away with a little more force than he had probably meant to use. Pete stumbled back several feet, almost falling over. "Did everyone make it out?" Clark demanded in a wavering voice  
  
Lex jumped towards him, keeping his weight off his broken leg. His face was drawn, but he looked determined. "Everyone but my father," he said grimly. He hesitated and then added, "We haven't found Lana either."  
  
Clark stared at him, not saying anything. Chloe could hear how hard he was breathing in the silence. "Don't make me choose like that again," he said finally with great effort.  
  
"I wish I could."  
  
"Hey, we've got another here," Sarah shouted to them, wheeling in another gurney along with Jeremy, the young member of Pete's group. Chloe pulled away, afraid she knew who was on it, but to her amazement, instead it was a woman, wearing a long white robe. Her skin was very pale next to her long, red hair. She lay on the gurney with her eyes closed, hardly seeming to move. Chloe gasped as she realized who it was, and then looked at Clark.  
  
"You got her out," she said in almost a whisper. He nodded weakly, staring at his mother.  
  
"How is she?" Lex hopped over to her, cursing his leg under his breath. "Goddamn it, I thought we were going to find a doctor?" he yelled.  
  
"She hasn't woken up since we got out," Clark wheezed.  
  
Lex nodded quickly, still looking her over. "You ran all the way back to the junkyard with her?"  
  
"No, we found them on the way here," Sarah spoke up. "Well actually, he found our bumper is more like it."  
  
"You ran him over!?" Lex yelled at her, a vein popping out on his head.  
  
"He came out of nowhere!" she protested. "He's the one with super-speed, what am I supposed to do?"  
  
"What were you doing out anyways? I thought I told you to stay in the base. And how did Lana get out?" Sarah hesitated, staring at him helplessly.  
  
"Where's Whitney?" Tina's voice cut through the noise. She was standing at the front desk, clutching it to keep herself up. "Why isn't he with you?"  
  
Jeremy looked at her and swallowed, speaking up for the first time. "Uh, he's in the van," he stammered.  
  
"Idiot," Sarah snarled at him, glancing at Tina.  
  
Tina stood there, blinking in confusion. "Why isn't he coming in? What's wrong with him?"  
  
Sarah dropped her head and sighed. She leaned over and whispered something to Lex, but Chloe couldn't hear what it was from where she stood. She saw Lex's face tighten up, and then he nod silently and glanced back into the parking lot for a moment. Chloe looked back at Tina and saw her staring back at her, her eyes demanding an answer. Unable to say anything, Chloe had to turn her head away. It was Clark who broke the silence  
  
"She killed him," he whispered. Chloe spun around, horrified at him, but he didn't seem to notice. He was looking outside, staring in that way she'd come to recognize as using his x-ray vision. "She killed him to get to me," he said. He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Lana. Oh, Lana."  
  
Tina started to wail as she fell forward, clutching her sides. Pete dropped to his knees beside her, trying to comfort her, but she screamed over him, sobbing uncontrollably. Lex sighed and signaled for some people to take Clark's mother up. They came forward and started to move the gurney as Lex hobbled after them.  
  
They only got a few feet before the gurney stopped abruptly. Joseph stood in its path implacably, his hand resting lightly on the front of the gurney. "What is it?" Lex said nervously as Joseph stood there, staring down at her. Chloe reached out to touch Clark's arm and warn him, but he had already noticed. He nodded to her and looked at his brother.  
  
"Joseph?" he asked, his body shaking a little as he held himself up in the doorway.  
  
"She's human," Joseph said finally. He lifted a lock of her hair up gently and let it fall through his hands. "She's a human," he repeated. He looked up at Clark slowly. "You lied to me."  
  
"No, I didn't –"  
  
"She's a human! She can't be our mother."  
  
"She is," Clark insisted. "When I landed here, she found me, she would have found you too, but something happened. She is our mother though, she was supposed to be."  
  
"My mother is not a human!" Joseph stalked up to him, his fingers twitching ominously. For a moment, he looked like he was going to strike at Clark, but he stopped just short of him, as if held back by something. "That thing is not her! It can't be!" he yelled. "Why did you lie to me?"  
  
"She's not a thing," Chloe said, surprising herself with speaking up at all, but Joseph didn't seem to even notice her. He stared at Clark, waiting for some kind of answer.  
  
"I didn't lie to you," Clark told him weakly. He was swaying dangerously and his eyes were dim. "I didn't... lie. She loves us... both..." he trailed off abruptly and sagged against the wall.  
  
"Clark!" Chloe called out and rushed forwards as he slid down the wall to the floor. His eyes were open, but unseeing. He had passed out cold.  
  
"Liar," Joseph breathed out, standing over him. "Liar..." 


	38. Reflections

Chapter 37  
  
"I really need more time to do this," the doctor protested. He gestured to Clark, lying unconscious on the bed. "First you tell me he just collapsed and to figure out what's wrong. Then I can't get a needle through his skin to draw some blood. Now you keep telling me to hurry up. How am I supposed to work like this?"  
  
Pete cocked his gun and pointed it at the doctor as Lex leaned towards him on his crutches and smiled. "Very quickly, I'd imagine," he said dryly.  
  
"Right. Well. Let's... Let's see," the doctor stammered as he turned back to Clark.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Chloe spoke up. She was standing in the doorway nervously, not eager to enter in. "Is he hurt?"  
  
"Yes, but nothing major, I think. He has some cuts and bruises, there looks to be a bit of internal bleeding, but I can't be certain." The doctor shrugged. "I think he's just exhausted, but I'm not sure," he apologized. "Aside from just letting him rest, I can't think of anything else you can do."  
  
"Guess he's been through a lot," Pete said.  
  
"Let him sleep," Lex nodded. "He's earned it."  
  
"What about her?" Pete nodded at Clark's mother, who was lying on the other hospital bed. The only sign of life she showed was the tiny, slow beep from the heart machine hooked up to her. Lex glanced at her and shrugged.  
  
"My father's doctors had years to make heads or tails of her and they still couldn't do it. There's nothing we can do to help her."  
  
Pete looked at her for a moment and nodded slowly. The he glanced at the doctor. "So we don't need him anymore?" The doctor gulped and backed up nervously, almost upsetting a tray in the process.  
  
"I'm glad you still have the ability to joke after all of this," Lex said dryly to Pete.  
  
"Well, I'm not the one with a broken leg."  
  
Lex rolled his eyes and motioned towards the door. Pete smirked and grabbed the man by the collar, pushing him out of the room. "Come'on Doc, I'm sure we can find a few more people in need of a house call," he said, giving him a kick out the door. He stopped in the doorway by Chloe and touched her shoulder.  
  
"You going to be alright?"  
  
"I'm fine," she said quietly.  
  
"Liar, but you're tough, you will be. I'll check up on you later." He gave the doctor another shove and followed him down the hall.  
  
Chloe smiled at him as he left. Then she entered the room slowly, looking at Clark. He was lying on the bed, sleeping, but not soundly. He twitched roughly as he lay there, his face in pain. "Is he dreaming, do you think?" she asked.  
  
Lex grunted in pain as he maneuvered his body into a chair against the wall. He hade a plastic and metal cast strapped on his broken leg and hadn't quite gotten the hang of it yet. "If he is, it doesn't look like a good one." He sighed as he moved his leg slightly. "Let him rest, he'll be fine in the morning. The sun will be up; that'll cure him." He let out another moan and then settled back into the chair. "That's something we found out through experience; sunlight seems to be what gives them their powers. They store it in, like a battery. Still don't understand it fully myself."  
  
"So he'll be fine?"  
  
"He should be."  
  
"Joseph too?" she asked.  
  
"I think it's going to take a lot more than sunlight to cure Joseph," Lex remarked. "Speaking of which, where did he disappear to?"  
  
"Upstairs, somewhere," Chloe shrugged.  
  
Lex leaned forwards a bit nervously. "Pete evacuated those floors right?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"I'm not asking for his benefit, Chloe. You better make sure."  
  
Chloe turned around and looked at him. "Do you think he'd hurt anyone?"  
  
Lex sighed again and leaned his head back against the wall. His eyes were dull and tired and his skin looked gray. The strain of the past night and his broken leg was clearly getting to him. "He's been caged up all his life; he's probably met more people in the last few hours than he's ever seen in his life. This has got to be hard on him."  
  
"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out.  
  
"You want to know the truth: I don't know. He could, he has a history of it and he's not that fond of any of us right now. Will he?" He shrugged. "I don't think so. I hope not at least."  
  
"They're so different," Chloe said quietly. She touched Clark's arm and he flinched in his sleep. "So very different."  
  
"I hope they're not. I pray they're not, or we might have made a very big mistake by letting him out."  
  
"Lex, can you tell me something?" Chloe asked. "Did my father know? About him? When he worked for Luthorcorp, was he in on all of this?"  
  
"You're asking if he knew about Joseph." He shifted in his chair and avoided her eyes. "Why do you want to know?" She stared at him quietly and didn't answer. Finally, he let out a long breath and looked at her sadly. "Lana told you, didn't she? She's the only one who could have."  
  
"You weren't going to tell me?" she asked, swallowing a dry lump in her throat.  
  
"I would have eventually. Not right now, but eventually."  
  
"Did he know about him? Lex, please."  
  
"What does it matter? It doesn't change anything."  
  
"Please," she protested.  
  
He hesitated and then shook his head. "Back then, there were a lot of different divisions inside the lab. Your father was assigned to one of those. There were rumors about what we were doing, but we kept a tight lid on things. Your father didn't know what was going on."  
  
Chloe let out a breath, unsure of whether that was answer she'd wanted or not. "Wrong place, wrong time," she said quietly and Lex nodded.  
  
"Yes, it was. After the escape, that's when we moved the other divisions out. Too risky." He looked at her worriedly. "Look, it might be better if you forgot about that; it's not a good idea to think about it too much."  
  
"He killed my father, Lex," she reminded him testily. "I'm just supposed to forget about it?"  
  
"No, I didn't mean that. Just we've all been through a lot right now. You should get some rest. We'll deal with that later."  
  
"How are we going to deal with it?" she asked doggedly.  
  
He sank back into his chair and rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I don't know. We'll figure something out. I promise."  
  
"If he goes crazy, what are we going to do with him?" she asked. He looked at her helplessly. "You have a plan right? You always have a plan. That's what you do."  
  
"You can't plan everything out, some things you just have to leave to chance. Or hope," he added, a grim smile floating across his face. "Maybe we don't have to worry," he shrugged. "Maybe we can help him understand us. It's going to take time though. You can't expect him to change overnight."  
  
"But he still killed... them," she said, swallowing dryly. "It doesn't change that." Lex looked at her helplessly, at a loss for words. "I'm going to check on Tina," Chloe said abruptly and started to leave. Lex pushed himself up from the chair worriedly, calling to her.  
  
"Chloe, I'm serious! We'll deal with this later. We can't do anything right now!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she said without turning around. "I just need to be alone, I guess." She rubbed her arms lightly and looked back at him. "You going to be alright here?"  
  
He glanced at the chair against the wall and made a wry face. "I've slept in better. You better get some sleep too."  
  
Chloe nodded briefly and left the room, closing the door slowly behind her. Her feelings were a jumble in her stomach, rolling and churning uncertainly. She didn't know what to do, or even where to go. Aimlessly, she wandered around the hospital, glancing into rooms and down hallways. All she knew was that she wanted was to be alone for a while, but everywhere she looked she saw Pete's people gathered around the windows, watching for trouble. Chloe shuddered as she looked at them, feeling the walls close in around her. The whole mood of the hospital was like a fortress; everywhere she looked she saw strained and nervous faces. More upset than ever, her steps took up upstairs, to the abandoned top floors.  
  
What was she going to do, she wondered as she climbed the stairs. She'd never been that close to her father, even after her mother had left them. It must have been tough for him, and she hadn't made it any easier. Maybe she had resented it and had taken everything she'd been feeling out on him. Every time he had tried to reach out to her, she had stepped back, until eventually, both of them had stopped trying, and had just avoided each other. She stopped; realizing how little she remembered of him after her mother had left. Maybe things would have been different if someone could have told her that one day he'd go out the door and never come back. Maybe...  
  
Suddenly she was sobbing uncontrollably. It came ripping out of her chest, making her drop to her knees and bawl into her arms, her eyes screwed up against the rush of it all. Her cries echoed through the empty hallway. She'd never spared her father a single tear before and maybe this was simply her way of getting it all out at once.  
  
When she'd cried herself out, Chloe sat back against the stairwell, cradling her knees to her chest. After a moment, she felt herself sitting on something uncomfortable and she pulled out Clark's wallet. She'd completely forgotten he'd given it to her. She opened it up gingerly, staring at his student id and picture. Then slowly, she unfolded the photo tucked inside it. There they were, Clark, Pete, herself, and even Lana, but they weren't. It was the people Clark knew, his friends. The people he had left behind a world away.  
  
She got to her feet and climbed to the next floor. There, she found the nearest bathroom and went inside, flicking on the light. Then she leaned close to the mirror and held up the picture. When she'd first seen the photo, all she could see were the similarities, now all she saw were the differences.  
  
The Chloe in the photo was young and fresh-faced, her skin gleaming. She looked happy, excited to be there with her friends. Her arms were draped around Pete and Clark's neck, a grin stretched from ear to ear. Chloe looked into the mirror and saw the weathered girl staring back at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and dim. Her skin was dirty and smudged, and there were a line or two that weren't there in the photo. Lack of sleep or just too much living, she didn't know which was the cause. The lines seemed so deep to her. She dropped her gaze and stared into the sink. Clark had told her about herself, albeit grudgingly, but she had heard the glow in his voice as he'd done it. Maybe that was when she'd first started to fall for him, she thought to herself. She'd felt warm hearing that voice and the way it had talked about her. Maybe she'd almost felt like that girl. Now she felt broken and jaded. She rubbed her shoulders and glanced again at the mirror. Then she folded up the photo and tucked it away. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore.  
  
As she exited the room, she heard a television playing loudly somewhere down the hall. She went searching and found it eventually. The door was open, but the lights were off in the room. The only illumination was the glow from the TV screen inside. She peered inside quietly.  
  
Joseph was lying on the floor inside, wrapped up in a makeshift nest of pillows, mattresses, and blankets. The stripped remains of four beds were piled in the corner of the room. He had apparently found a room to his liking and claimed it. He had even pulled the TV off its perch on the wall and was staring at it, completely engrossed. He didn't even seem to realize she was there. He held the remote control inexpertly, changing the channels every few seconds randomly. Chloe stood in the doorway, watching him. He seemed completely absorbed in it.  
  
As quietly as she could, she reached behind her and pulled out the gun she'd stolen from LuthorCorp. It was heavy in her hands, but she held it steadily as she aimed it at his head. He was only a few yards away and his back was too her. He still hadn't noticed she was there. She wondered idly to herself what would happen if he turned around now. He'd probably kill her dead in a second. She couldn't fool herself into thinking she'd get any mercy from him. The TV boomed loudly as she stared at him from over the gun barrel.  
  
Chloe's eyes strayed downwards a bit and she saw that his shirt had pulled up slightly on his back, revealing a patchwork mess of scars and suture marks across his skin. The lines went deep across his skin, so deep. After a moment she lowered the gun silently and tiptoed away.  
  
Chloe walked down the hallway to a nurse's station. She leaned against the counter, thinking to herself. Then she walked around it and found a medical waste bin and opened it quietly. She held the gun up once more, feeling the weight in her hand. Her other hand crept up to her face and rubbed her skin tentatively. "If I had to choose," she whispered to herself, "I'd be her. In a heartbeat." She turned her hand over and let the gun fall into the bin. It lay there among the other needles and poisons. She shut the lid quietly and wandered back to Joseph's room. There was a bench pressed against the wall outside his door. Curling up on it, she listened to the TV quietly until she fell to sleep.  
  
Chloe came awake slowly, becoming aware of several voices speaking quietly somewhere nearby. "Where are they now?" someone was saying. She dimly thought it might have been Lex. Pushing herself up, she winced as half a dozen muscles in her body sang out. That was what she got for sleeping on a bench, she thought groggily. Rubbing her back, she got up, blinking to clear her eyes. She could see from the clock on the wall that it was still a few hours before dawn. She groaned and started to fall back onto the bench, but then she saw Tina come round the corner of the hallway and head towards her.  
  
"There you are," she said quietly, her face subdued. Her voice was so even it was a little unnatural, never wavering. "Lex sent me to find you."  
  
"Tina," Chloe said sleepily, still clearing her eyes. "What is it?"  
  
Tina hummed noncommittally and looked around. "Where's Joseph?"  
  
"Still asleep, I guess." She pointed towards his room and Tina turned towards it. "Wait, are you okay? You know, about..."  
  
"I'm dealing with it," Tina said curtly, but then she went on in that same even tone. "We need both of you. Something's happening."  
  
"Something? Is Clark awake?"  
  
"No, I'm afraid not," she said, stepping into Joseph's room. Chloe followed after her, rubbing the last of the sleep out of her eyes.  
  
Joseph was curled around the TV, his arms wrapped around it as it blared static loudly. The blankets and mattresses were strewn around him a pile. One of his legs kicked reflexively as he lay there, apparently dead to the world. Chloe took one look at him and snorted loudly. "Leave him sleep; it's the only way anyone can stand him."  
  
"Lex said both of you," Tina said again quietly. She bent down and touched one of his legs lightly. Joseph jerked awake like a dog that had been kicked, scrambling away on all fours. He glared at both of them suspiciously.  
  
"What?" he croaked, swallowing dryly.  
  
"Lex wants you to come with me," Tina told him evenly. "He has something you need to see."  
  
"What? Why?" He was clearly having a hard time processing this right away.  
  
Chloe rolled her eyes and leaned against the door. "You're using too many big words for him. Just snap your fingers and say 'Come.'"  
  
Tina ignored her. "Joseph, what do you hear right now?" He stared at her in confusion and then his eye narrowed as he concentrated. Suddenly his face unclouded and he stood up swiftly.  
  
"Where is he?' he asked.  
  
Tina got up in response and motioned for him to follow after her. "You'll see it easier on the other side of the building," she told him. Chloe blinked and tagged along after the two of them as they left the room in a hurry.  
  
"What? What do you hear?" she asked.  
  
"I can't tell," he said tersely.  
  
"What do you mean, you can't tell?"  
  
"No, I mean I can't tell you. Too many big words."  
  
Chloe stopped dead for a moment, shocked, and then hurried to catch up. "You just shot back at me. Where did you learn how to do that?"  
  
A smile floated across his harsh face for a moment. "Cable," he told laconically. Chloe looked at him strangely, unaccustomed to ever seeing him smile. He seemed even more unaccustomed to doing it. Then as swiftly as it had appeared, the smile vanished and he was back to his usual self, ignoring her from then on.  
  
They found Lex and Pete in another room on the opposite side of the building. They were staring out an open window and had been apparently discussing something until the three of them entered, at which point they stopped abruptly. "Joseph, I was hoping you would be able to-"  
  
"Where are they?" Joseph cut him off as he rushed to the window. He stared out, craning his head around. "I can't see them yet," he said angrily.  
  
"I take it there's no need to explain then," Lex said dryly, turning back to the window.  
  
"Uh, yeah the hell there is!" Chloe spoke up. "What's going on?"  
  
"You'll know in a minute," Pete told her quietly.  
  
"Not even that long," Tina said in that same even tone as she looked out another window. "Here they come."  
  
Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but then she noticed for the first time that she could hear a low rumble coming from outside. It was steadily growing larger, very quickly growing larger, she realized. Going to a window, she stared out, but at first she couldn't see anything. The parking lot and road to the hospital were both deserted in the few hours left before dawn. The rumble continued to grow and she waited, watching silently. Then from over a hill a tank rolled into view, and then another, and another. They dotted the landscape, appearing from behind houses and buildings and taking positions around the hospital. Jeeps and troop carriers appeared behind them and Chloe looked up suddenly as a trio of helicopters roared over the hospital and circled around again.  
  
"We got the call about twenty minutes ago from someone still on the outside," Pete stated. "They said there's even more of them town; they've blocked off all the streets. Smallville's under martial law."  
  
"Who are they?" Tina asked, hardly sounding concerned at all about things. "Still more from your father?"  
  
"No, these aren't my father's," Lex disagreed quietly. "United States Army."  
  
"Army?" Chloe said, thunderstruck. For a moment, she was horrified, but then something occurred to her and she became really horrified. "Wait, that means that my uncle..."  
  
"Yes, that probably means he's the one in charge of it all," Lex nodded. "And it looks like he's got us surrounded." 


	39. Ultimatum

Chapter 38  
  
Lex was silent for a moment but then he nodded to himself. "This is a problem," he said at last.  
  
"You think?" Chloe asked him dryly. Pete nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. They were all staring out windows, watching the groups of tanks and soldiers that ringed the building. Helicopters swarmed through the sky overhead, circling the building relentlessly.  
  
"I didn't even know they had this many troops," Pete breathed out. "There's got to be a hundred-"  
  
"One hundred and fifty," Chloe supplied glumly. "Pretty much everything my uncle's got." She walked away from the window and flopped down onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow. "God, he is going to be so pissed with me," she grumbled into it.  
  
Joseph was beside himself with rage. "I should have heard them coming. I should have, even asleep!"  
  
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Tina told him listlessly. "It's probably something you'd be used to hearing in your sleep. And besides, there's nothing we could have done anyways." She said it in such an accepting tone that Chloe rolled over, giving her a wondering look.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, a little bothered by how calmly Tina seemed to be taking this.  
  
"There's nothing we could have done even if we knew an hour before hand," she replied. "Too many of our people are injured to get out in time. And besides, where would we go?"  
  
"They've taken over the whole town, there's no way we could move a group this big out and stay hidden," Pete said, staring out the window.  
  
"So what do we do?" Joseph asked tensely. He shuffled around nervously, alternating between glancing at Lex and outside.  
  
"'We'?" Chloe asked  
  
"That's a step," Lex muttered quietly. "I'd say resisting them is out the question. Even with Clark and Joseph at full strength."  
  
"Maybe," Joseph said, clenching his fists.  
  
"We might not have a choice, Lex," Pete agreed.  
  
"Let's see what they have to say first," Lex replied. He gestured out the window. Outside, they could see a single jeep break ranks and drive towards the hospital. "It looks like they want to talk."  
  
"Oh God, it is him," Chloe breathed out as she saw the soldier who climbed out of the jeep. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she muttered.  
  
"Take it easy," Lex told her. "This is just going to be a simple negotiation. I promise I won't let him spank you."  
  
"Easy for you to say!" she hissed at him. "Why did you want me here too? I don't want to talk to him."  
  
"I think you'll know what to say."  
  
"Last thing I said to him wasn't exactly 'goodbye, see ya later', more like I told him where to stick it." He smiled lazily at her. "How are you so calm? You know what he's like. I'm surprised he hasn't opened fire on us already!"  
  
"Well, you forget," he said, "I'm also on a lot of painkillers."  
  
"Terrific," she muttered, watching her uncle advance on them. When they'd seen that the soldiers were ready to talk, they'd ordered everyone out of the first floor and she and Lex had gone down to wait. They could see the tanks and soldiers marshaled around them from where they stood in the lobby. And there, filling the doorway was her uncle, General Nathan Lane. He stomped inside; his face a thundercloud, as he kicked upturned chairs out of his way. He stopped short in front of them, red in the face and practically quivering with rage. He was a big man with a dark brown hair that was cut very short. He was in full uniform and was quite imposing. Chloe took a quick breath and held it in, waiting for the explosion.  
  
"What the hell is she doing here?" Lane snarled at Lex as he pointed a stubby finger at her. Lex smiled casually and glanced at her before looking back at him.  
  
"And a good evening to you too, General," he said back pleasantly, his voice a little too subdued. "Lovely escort you brought. Little bit of overkill, don't you think though?"  
  
"Overkill," he said slowly, "that's funny coming from you. I'm not the one who just left his father's building a crater and pissed over what was left of his company. And that's not even the worst."  
  
"I haven't gotten a chance to check in yet, how are things going?"  
  
Chloe saw her uncle's head retract briefly, a warning sign she'd learned years ago, but before she could warn Lex, her uncle had already lashed out with his fist, knocking the millionaire to the floor. "That's been a long time coming," Lane growled.  
  
"Lex, are you alright?" Chloe asked as she tried to help him to his feet.  
  
"Peachy," he said weakly. "Thank God I can't feel anything right now."  
  
"Chloe, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?" her uncle snapped at her. "Not enough to get yourself arrested every week you have to get involved in this madness!"  
  
"What do you care what I do?!" she yelled back at him, helping Lex back up.  
  
"I care when my brother's only daughter seems to be trying her best to get herself killed." He stepped forward and tried to grab her but she jerked away from him. He blinked and then stepped back, fuming.  
  
"So this is a first for you then, huh?" she said, helping Lex back onto his feet. "You never cared what I did before. How's it feel?"  
  
"Chloe, don't push me," Lane growled at her. "You have no idea how much trouble you're in already."  
  
"We're all in the same boat, General," Lex grunted, taking his crutches from Chloe. "Trust me, you can't protect her from any of this." Lane frowned at him, but then looked up, his face going even stonier. Chloe glanced back and saw Joseph leaning against the wall in the back of the room, his arms crossed. He stared back at the General intently.  
  
"No, maybe I can't," Lane muttered, still looking at him. "So that's your father's dirty little secret. Or one of them."  
  
"You read the files. Yes, he's with us."  
  
Lane snorted. "I read the files; the President read the files; anyone with a dial-up could read them! You did a hell of thing, boy."  
  
"My father spent his life collecting secrets. I grew tired of them."  
  
"You destroyed a lot of careers back in Washington."  
  
"Somehow that fails to upset me." "I'd be inclined to agree with you," he sighed, "but now there's hell to pay." His face grew troubled and he glanced at Chloe once more. Then he looked back at Lex. "You know why I'm here."  
  
"I've got a good guess. You're here to fetch something."  
  
"Someone. They want the woman."  
  
"'They'? Who's 'they'? And, hell no!" Chloe snapped at him. "We're not handing her over to anyone."  
  
"None of you have a choice," Lane snapped back. "Did you really think you could let us know about her and then expect to keep her? My God, if she can do half of what it says..."  
  
Chloe opened her mouth to yell back, but Lex stopped her with a raised hand. "It's not that simple," he said. "She's sick, injured; she might not last the night. If we move her it will make things worse."  
  
"It's even worse than you think," Lane shook his head. "I've been ordered to collect her, dead or alive. She's too dangerous to leave alive in any case. Especially now that everyone in the goddamn world knows about her. We need proof; the rest of the world needs proof that she can't threaten anyone ever again."  
  
Chloe stared at him. "Threaten anyone? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Remember what my father did with her, Chloe?" Lex asked. "How easy would it be for someone else to do the same. Or a country, even ours."  
  
"Now you understand," the General said. "They want her, Lex. You have to give her up."  
  
"And what if we don't?" Chloe asked spitefully.  
  
"Then I'm prepared to take her," her uncle responded harshly. "I can order my men to storm this hospital. You don't have a chance of keeping her."  
  
"The second your men step inside will be their last," Joseph spoke up from the back of the room. It was the first thing he'd said in the entire time. Lane looked up at him for a moment and then back at Lex.  
  
"Ask your pet if he can see what's circling over us right now, Lex," he asked. Lex frowned at him in confusion and then looked back at Joseph.  
  
"Helicopters don't scare me," Joseph said to him.  
  
"I mean farther up. Try the stratosphere," Lane said dryly.  
  
Lex blinked, his face going pale. "You wouldn't!"  
  
"I wouldn't, but that's the point. Those boys are out of my hand. If they decide to deploy, there's nothing any of us can do about it."  
  
Chloe looked from him to Lex in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Nuclear bombers, Chloe," Lex breathed out. "If we don't hand over Martha, they'll wipe Smallville off the map."  
  
Chloe swallowed, staring at him. "You're kidding me!"  
  
"No, it's true," her uncle responded. "Much as I wish it wasn't, but I don't have a say in the matter." He stared at Lex. "Hand her over now. There's nothing you can do anymore."  
  
Lex looked down, his face wracked in concentration. "Lex, what do we do?" Chloe whispered to him, but he ignored her for the moment.  
  
"There's nothing he can do, Chloe," Lane said. "Just hand her over, Lex. There's no need to endanger anyone...," his voice trailed off suddenly as he looked at the back of the room. Chloe looked at him, but then she felt an incredible wave of heat behind her. She whipped her head around to see Joseph staring up at the ceiling, his hands clenched at his sides. The air around his head was shimmering with raw heat, sending out searing gusts towards them. Chloe felt like she was standing in an oven, it was so intense. The paint above Joseph's head started to peel away as he stared upwards.  
  
"NO!" Lex shouted at him. He rushed towards him as fast as he could, despite his broken leg and the intense heat. "You can't shoot them down!"  
  
"I'm not going to be threatened by anyone," Joseph shouted at him, still looking up through the ceiling. Chloe could only imagine what he was staring at, the planes above them, thousands of feet up. Could he really even reach them from down here?  
  
"They'll drop the bombs. You can't risk it!" Lex gritted his teeth as he came closer to Joseph. The very air around both of them was shimmering with heat now.  
  
"Lex, no!" Chloe shouted and tried to rush forwards, but her uncle grabbed her and pulled her back.  
  
"Don't be a fool!" he shouted, holding onto her tightly.  
  
"I can help them!" Chloe yelled back. She struggled to get loose, but he was too strong. Finally she gave up and looked back at Joseph and Lex.  
  
Lex was right in front of him now, holding onto his arms. Chloe could see him wincing in agony as he held on. "Don't do it!" he yelled again. "We'll find another way. You have to trust me."  
  
Joseph stared upwards, his face set, and then finally he relaxed. He lowered his head slowly, his one eye slowly fading from red back to its usual color. Lex let go of him, flinching as he pulled his hands away. Chloe could see the burned skin on the palms of his hands. He would have collapsed, but Joseph caught him and held him upright.  
  
"Lex," Chloe said quietly.  
  
"Take him from me," Joseph said to her. Chloe blinked and then nodded. She tugged on her uncle's arm, and was half-surprised when he released her. She rushed over to Lex's side and slipped his arm over her shoulders. He grunted and lifted his head as she did.  
  
"Two hours," he whispered hoarsely.  
  
"What?" Lane asked.  
  
"Two hours; you'll get our answer then," he said louder.  
  
"Lex, you can't negotiate here."  
  
"I just saved you and your men's lives, General," Lex reminded him. "The least you can give me is two hours." He waited, staring the man down. Lane was silent, watching him. Then he looked at Joseph, and then even more surprisingly to her, at Chloe herself.  
  
"Alright," he said finally. "You've got two hours. That's all. Lord knows what you can do with it." He looked at Chloe one final time and turned around sharply, heading back towards the door.  
  
Chloe watched him leave, feeling a knot tighten up in her stomach. Two hours. She looked at Joseph and Lex and saw them looking just as worried. What could they possibly do in two hours? 


	40. Bargaining

Chapter 39  
  
They were all waiting in a small office they'd found, no one speaking. Lex sat crookedly at the desk, his cast sticking out to the side. Pete was leaning against the wall next to Tina, while Chloe paced around nervously. Joseph was studying the pictures and diplomas on the wall with mute interest. Chloe noted with a grim sense of irony that the settings were almost identical to when they'd all sat down to hear Clark and Lex's story, back at the warehouse. The only differences were that Joseph was standing in for Clark, and that of course, Whitney was not with them. The taunt feel to the air though was the same, as well as the sense of foreboding.  
  
The door opened at the end of the room and Sarah stepped in. "How is she?" Lex asked, before she could say anything.  
  
"Getting worse," she admitted, tiredly. She had found a stethoscope somewhere and was wearing this around her neck. She tugged on it incessantly as she talked. "Moving her down to the basement didn't help her any."  
  
"A precaution," Lex said quietly.  
  
Sarah made shrugged. "Well, her pulse keeps getting slower and she's dropped a half a degree in the last half hour. I'm no doctor, but I don't think she'll last much longer."  
  
If this was what Lex wanted to hear or not, he didn't show it. "Alright. Thank you, Sarah."  
  
"Hey," she said nervously. "There's a lot of talk about the army guys storming the place. Uh, what are you planning to do here?"  
  
"Thank you, Sarah," he repeated again.  
  
Sarah stared at him, swallowing. "Yeah, okay. I guess I should break out some more tourniquets then, huh?" she muttered as she left.  
  
"What are we going to do, Lex?" Chloe asked as soon as the door was closed. Lex looked at her, but it was Tina who answered.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" she asked in that too calm voice. "We have to give her up. We can't keep her." She almost sounded like she talking about some pet they'd picked up.  
  
Chloe stared at her in shock; she couldn't be serious, could she? But then she realized she was the only one who seemed to think so. Lex had folded his hands carefully, staring into his fingers, while Pete was looking down at the floor silently. Joseph had given over studying the pictures on the wall in favor of Tina. Of all the others, he seemed as surprised as Chloe that Tina had suggested this, but not apparently for the same reason.  
  
"We can do that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"We don't seem to have much choice," Lex told him quietly.  
  
Joseph blinked and looked at him. "It's smart," he said finally, sounding impressed.  
  
"Shut up, Joseph," Chloe snapped at him. "Lex, you can't do this. After everything you and Clark did to get her out, you're just going to hand her over, so she can... can be put back in some machine just like your father had her in?" she attacked him breathlessly. "And what about Clark? What are you going to tell him when he wakes up? 'Sorry, I know you almost killed yourself getting her out and I know you trusted me but –'"  
  
"Enough, Chloe!" Pete yelled suddenly, cutting her off. "That's enough," he said again, quieter.  
  
"No, it's not enough!" she picked up steam again. "He trusted you too. He trusted everyone of us to do our part." Pete flinched and looked away. "He went through hell for you," she whirled on Joseph. He frowned, but didn't say anything. "And you," she said turning to Lex. "He agreed to your plan, he trusted you most of all. And now what do you do? You sell him out!"  
  
"What do you want me to do, Chloe?" Lex asked in a deceptively mild voice. Chloe took a breath, staring at him. He was regarding her calmly, but there was ice enough in his eyes to make her want to back away.  
  
"I... I want you to say we won't give her up," she said gathering up her courage. Lex regarded her for a moment and then asked the one word she had been dreading.  
  
"How?"  
  
Chloe hesitated, trying to speak, but she couldn't think of anything. Lex continued to watch her for a moment and then he looked back down at his hands.  
  
"Chloe, it's not like any one of use wants to do this," Pete told her quietly. "Look, if there was a way, we'd take it, in a second, but..."  
  
"There has to be a way!"  
  
"There isn't," Lex said emphatically. "I've thought and thought, and there is no way. We're surrounded; we're trapped in an open building that we couldn't defend even if we had enough men." The more he talked the more enraged he became, until he was almost turning red in the face. "And let's not forget also that half the people we do have are severely wounded. We even try to stand and fight and we can count them all dead. And on top of all of that, your uncle has tanks, Chloe, tanks!" He stared at her, breathing heavily and then looked back down, getting control of himself once again. "Have I left anything out?" he asked.  
  
"We could bargain with him," Chloe started, but he shook his head.  
  
"In order to bargain you need something to bargain with. What do you suppose I should give him? Or who?" Chloe knew enough not to answer that; she could almost feel Joseph watching her.  
  
"But we went through all of that to get her out... You can't just give her up now."  
  
"I know, Chloe, I know," he shook his head. "But think about what Sarah just said. She probably won't live out the night anyways. In a few hours it won't matter who has her."  
  
"No," Chloe moaned, feeling her eyes start to well up. "No, we can't." She felt herself losing control and she bolted from the room, running down the hall. She heard the other's call after her, but she kept running. She stopped in the lobby, staring out wildly at the massed troops. She thought for a moment and then dashed her tears away against her arms. Then, not even caring about the danger, she marched to the doors and threw them open, stepping outside.  
  
Chloe marched across the parking lot, ignoring the soldiers with their guns raised at her. One of the helicopters broke off from circling the building and hovered over her, the force from its rotors making her hair blow wildly around her. It shone a spotlight down on her as she walked towards the massed soldiers, stopping halfway to them. She stared at them, breathlessly, waiting.  
  
"Chloe?" her uncle called out. He ran out from the soldiers, waving for them to lower their arms. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
"You can't take her," she said to him. "You have to tell them no!"  
  
He stared at her and pushed his hat back, frowning. "Are you speaking for Lex here?"  
  
"I'm speaking for myself. You have to say no. Please." It was perhaps the first time she had ever said that word to him.  
  
He seemed to realize the same thing. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, and then shook his head. "What are you doing here, Chloe? I've never seen you get involved in anything like this."  
  
"Yeah, I know," she said.  
  
"When you left I thought I'd have to pick you out of line up before I could get you back."  
  
"Maybe I started caring," she admitted, a little embarrassed by the tone in his voice. "But that's not important, you have to-"  
  
"I can't do anything, Chloe," he said in a tired voice. "I don't have that power."  
  
"You're a general aren't you?" she demanded. "What if I agree to go instead?" she asked, a little desperate now. "I'll stay, I won't run off again, I promise, just leave her."  
  
He let out a great sigh, but his eyes were looking her over speculatively. "You have changed," he said finally.  
  
"Well?" Chloe waited tensely.  
  
"For the last time, I can't. My orders come right from the President; I was able to buy you two hours, but I can't do anything more. I'm sorry," he said, and seemed to mean it. He started to walk back towards the soldiers, but Chloe called out to him once more.  
  
"She's dieing." Her uncle looked back at her, surprised. "She won't last long. Can you just, wait until...? Please..."  
  
"I can't, it's out of my hands." He looked at her and then glanced back at the hospital. "Why is she so important to you? Why are they?"  
  
Chloe hesitated, and then shook her head. "I can't say."  
  
He nodded and looked back at the men behind him. "You're going to go back inside, aren't you?" She nodded and he didn't seem very surprised. "Be careful," he told her. Chloe looked at him and shrugged, it was all she could think of doing. She walked back slowly, digging her hands into her pockets. No one shouted at her to come back.  
  
Pete was waiting for her inside the lobby with two of his men. They were both holding rifles that were pointed at the floor and Pete had a handgun stuck into his waistband. "What was that all about?" he asked abruptly as she entered.  
  
"I had to try to talk to him," she mumbled, looking down at the floor. "That's all."  
  
He looked at her and then he let out an angry breath. "Look, Chloe..."  
  
"Don't... Don't try and tell me why," she snapped at him. "I don't want to hear it." Pete sighed and nodded.  
  
"Alright," he said quietly. He glanced outside. "I'm surprised he let you go like that."  
  
"Yeah, me too," she mumbled. As she said it something small and black slid across the room and came to a rest near them. Chloe glanced at it dumbly for a second and then everything seemed to explode in a rush of sound and light. She flew backwards off her feet and hit the floor hard, almost knocking her senseless. As the dust settled, she lay on her back, unable to move an inch. Everything felt disconnected inside of her. She saw, but she didn't comprehend. Her body felt like it had been blown a million miles away.  
  
Beside her, she heard a groan, and Pete rose up into her view, his whole body shaking as he struggled to stand. She couldn't see where his other two men had gone. Then there was a muffled sound and a red cloud of mist blew out from Pete's leg. He grunted and collapsed again. Slowly, Chloe turned her head over, letting it fall onto one side. She could see Pete holding his leg and grimacing. Blood was welling up from it from between his fingers. Chloe stared at him, still unable to form a single thought.  
  
Then behind him, someone stepped forwards from out of the shadows of the hallways. Chloe's vision was still swimming slightly from the blast, but the figure seemed to be a girl, clad all in black. She stepped over Pete without a word and threw a large, black bag on the floor besides Chloe. Then she bent down over her, studying her face. Finally, she reached back and slapped Chloe roughly back and forth. Everything seemed to slam back together in her mind as she did so. Chloe sucked in a breath and then let it out again in harsh, tearing cough.  
  
"Hi, Chloe," the girl said over her. Chloe stared up at her, still coughing. The girl's face was covered with grime and streaked with blood, but it was still recognizable.  
  
"Lana!" she rasped out between coughs.  
  
She nodded slowly. The she smoothly pulled out a gun and put it to Chloe's head. "Now tell me where she is and I won't kill you." 


	41. A Mother's Love

Chapter 40  
  
Chloe stared up at her, feeling the barrel of the gun pressed against her forehead. Lana stared back at her with utterly calm eyes. Her hair was a grimy mess and a bloody smear covered half her face. She was wearing a bloodstained LuthorCorps uniform. She looked as if she had clawed her way out of the wreckage of the labs, and Chloe realized that she probably had. "Where is she?" Lana asked again.  
  
"Lana," Pete groaned, still holding his leg from where she had shot him. He was bleeding badly. Lana glanced back and him and stood up quickly. She walked over to him and trained the gun down on him. Chloe struggled to stand up, to move, to do anything, but she couldn't seem to move a muscle. Lana bent down and pulled out his gun, tossing it down the hallway so it slid out of sight. Then she stepped over to the two men Pete had brought with him and kicked their guns away as well. No one was in any condition to stop her.  
  
Lana walked back to Chloe and trained her gun back down on her. "Where's the Oracle?" she asked. "Tell me or she dies. Tell me right now."  
  
"No," Chloe started to moan, but Lana fired suddenly. Chloe froze up, staring up at the smoking gun aimed down at her. Then she turned her head slowly and saw the hole in the floor a few inches from her head.  
  
"I don't want to hear a single thing that doesn't sound like a direction," Lana stated, still staring at Pete. "Now one last time..."  
  
The doors at the side of the lobby exploded inward, ripping off their hinges. Chloe's head whipped around to see Joseph standing in the doorway, his one eye fixed madly on Lana. "You!" he snarled at her.  
  
"The Dog's got sharp ears," Lana muttered. She didn't move her gun from Chloe's head, not even when Joseph threw himself towards her. Chloe closed her eyes, bracing for the shot that was sure to come, but nothing happened. She pried them open to see Joseph on his knees a few feet from Lana, shaking wildly. He tried to rise to his feet, the veins standing out on the sides of his neck as he struggled, but he fell back over, writhing. Lana stared over at him. "Still not very smart though." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a hunk of green rock about the size of an apple. She held it tightly in one fist and stared down at him. He writhed on the floor, trying to inch away from her and the meteor rock. Lana raised her gun and started to fire. Her face didn't even change as she pumped round after round into him. He screamed and convulsed on the ground as she emptied her gun into him. Chloe struggled up to her knees, screaming for her to stop, but Lana kept going until the gun clicked empty. She tossed it aside and walked back to her bag, pulling out a fresh one. Joseph twitched on the floor behind her.  
  
Chloe yelled suddenly as Lana grabbed her and pulled her up. She pushed her roughly towards Pete and let her fall down next to him. "Don't," he gritted out between his teeth. "Don't do it."  
  
"Tell me and I won't," Lana said simply.  
  
Pete stared up at her and then he nodded in defeat. "3rd floor Basement," he grunted. "We hid her there."  
  
"Thank you. Now pick him up," she said to Chloe.  
  
"You said..." Pete rasped out.  
  
"I said I wouldn't kill her. And I won't... yet," she corrected. Then without even looking she raised her gun to the front of the lobby and started to fire. Chloe spun around as she saw her Uncle's soldiers falling back from the doorway, seeking cover. "Stun grenade was too loud, I guess," she heard Lana mutter as she stopped firing. Then she glanced down at Chloe. "Pick him up, now," she said sternly.  
  
Chloe was on her feet in a few seconds. Her legs shook under her like a new born calf's but she was standing. Carrying Pete was going to be another matter entirely, she realized. She grabbed his jacket and tried to lift him, but fell down on top of him in a heap. He hissed and clutched his bleeding leg as her arm bumped it. She heard Lana mutter something behind her in irritation and then she felt herself being picked up bodily and shoved towards the elevator at the back of the room. Lana, though barely taller than herself, seemed as strong as an ox. She hit the door and slumped over onto it, trying to keep herself up. A few moments later, Pete hit the wall right beside her. Lana dropped the meteor rock into the black bag and then swung it over her shoulder. She then pressed the down button with the barrel. The doors opened and Chloe stumbled inside. Lana threw Pete in callously and then stepped inside herself.  
  
Through the open door, Chloe could see Joseph struggling to rise. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw that he wasn't dead. The radiation might have weakened him, but not enough for the bullets to have penetrated his skin. Still, it was a near thing. She could see numerous red bruises on his chest, evidence of where she had shot him. Thin lines of blood ran down from some of them. He pulled himself up to his knees, staring at them.  
  
Lana was rummaging through the bag, apparently ignoring him. She pulled out two gray canisters about the size of soda cans. She leaned over and pressed the floor button with one finger and then leaned back, staring out at Joseph coolly. As the doors started to close, she suddenly knocked the two cans together in a swift motion, making their tops spark and flare ominously, and then she tossed them through the narrow gap. The doors closed and the elevator lurched as it started to move down. Then the elevator gave another sudden shake and they heard a muffled explosion.  
  
"What was that?" Pete rasped from the floor. He had one hand over his leg, trying to keep from bleeding to death.  
  
"Napalm," Lana remarked.  
  
"We thought you were dead," he said.  
  
"I thought I was too. It took me hours to dig my way out of the labs. Then I went scrounging around. You all left a lot of things lying around that you shouldn't have."  
  
"How did you find us?"  
  
She gave a little laugh. "Wasn't hard; just followed the helicopters."  
  
"What do you want?" Chloe asked, staring up at her wildly.  
  
The look on Lana's face as she glanced at her was truly frightening. It was a strained and desperate sort of grin. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "I'm going home."  
  
"General, we've got gunfire inside!" one of the captains shouted to him. General Lane spun around, staring towards the hospital. The outside windows were mostly darkened, but he could see flashes of light inside the lobby. He felt a cold chill as he realized that Chloe had just gone in there.  
  
"General, what should we do?"  
  
The answer was out of his mouth before he could think about it. "Storm the building! I want this over now!"  
  
Joseph was on fire, but he barely noticed. He pulled himself up, feeling something grinding in his chest. He coughed and hacked up a wad of blood into the fire. His shirt fell off of him, brunt to cinders, but the constricting jeans they'd given him seemed to be fine. For some reason, they weren't burning, but he couldn't have cared less about that. He'd learned a lot of words listening to Chloe and to the TV last night, and he was using them all.  
  
Lana, she was here. That was all he needed to know. She was here and he wasn't going to rest until he had her neck in his hands. He stalked through the fiery lobby towards the elevator doors, ignoring the fire and the pain in the chest. He grabbed the doors and tore them apart. He could see the elevator car at the bottom of the shaft.  
  
- Clark, it's time. –  
  
Clark floated in a sea of darkness, half-listening to the voice that called to him. He felt so weak and alone, so cold.  
  
- It's time. They're all here and waiting for you. Both of them need you right now. You must wake up. –  
  
Suddenly the darkness was gone and he was floating in blinding, pure light. His body seemed to soak it in and he could feel his strength flow back into him.  
  
-This is all I can spare you. You have to get up and go to them now. There isn't much time. They need you. Only you can save them. –  
  
Clark opened his eyes slowly and stared into the light. "Mother," he said slowly. Then he opened them further and saw that he was staring into a lamp hanging over him. He lay there for a moment, looking at his surroundings. He had been in the Smallville Medical Center enough times to realize where he was, but how he had gotten there seemed like a blur to him. He remembered running with his mother, and hitting, something. He passed his hand over his eyes, thinking. Turning his head, he saw an empty hospital bed across from, and then it all came rushing back. "Mom," he said again, but more urgently. He sat up in a rush and noticed for the first time that people were talking in the next room.  
  
"What the hell is going on down there?" Lex's voice came through the partially closed door clearly. "Where did Joseph go and why am I hearing gunfire?"  
  
"Lex, the soldiers! They're coming towards us!" Sarah's voice cried out.  
  
Soldiers? Gunfire? Clark climbed out of bed and took a few steps towards the door. His legs were a little shaky, but with each step he felt his strength returning. Whatever his mother had given him was working. He pushed the door open slowly.  
  
The hallway outside was in an uproar. He could see people, mostly the group that followed Pete and Lex, were rushing everywhere. A few doctors and nurses were pressed up against the wall as well, their eyes panicked. Lex was in the middle of it, trying to establish some sort of control. Clark had a minor shock as he saw that Lex had shaved his head at some point. For a moment, he almost believed that he was home. Then he saw Tina right beside him.  
  
"I thought we had two hours?" Sarah demanded. "What happened?"  
  
"They must have heard the gunfire too." Suddenly the fire alarms went off loudly and everyone stared upwards. "What the hell is going on down there?"  
  
"Clark," Tina said suddenly, noticing him standing in the doorway. Lex and Sarah looked over at him, a little surprised.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked, staring at everyone. "Where's Joseph? And my mother?"  
  
"I'd like to know as well," Lex told him. He pointed towards the stairway door, lying askew on one of its hinges. "Joseph was up here a few seconds ago, when all of a sudden he tore off without saying a word."  
  
"Lex, they're coming!" Sarah called out in a panicked voice. She was peering out the window, her hands gripping the edge tightly. Clark stared past her, focusing his eyes to stare through the walls. He felt a jolt as he saw row upon row of soldiers advancing towards the building. Where had they come from?  
  
"I don't have time to explain about that," Lex answered his unspoken question. "The only thing you need to know is that we need to keep them out!"  
  
"That's not going to be easy," Tina said tonelessly. She was staring intensely at Clark, making him a little uncomfortable. Then he was distracted as he heard a rush of feet up the stairwell. He spun around, ready for anything, but he stopped as he saw a ragged pair of young boys stumble up. They were flushed and out of breath.  
  
"Where's Pete?" Lex turned on them. "What happened?"  
  
"That Lana girl..." one of them gasped. "She's here. She started shooting!"  
  
Clark started as he heard, but not nearly as much as Tina. She seemed to twitch violently, her head snapping towards them. Lex was no less shocked. "Lana? How did she get in?"  
  
"Don't know..." the other one said. "She and Joseph were fighting downstairs and then she set the whole thing on fire!"  
  
Lex stepped back, staggered. Tina was not nearly so stunned though. She rushed towards the stairway, her face tightly set. Clark came alive, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?" he asked.  
  
"Where do you think?" she snapped, staring back at him. He was a little stunned at the look in her eyes. She had seemed so unconcerned before, but her face was literally twitching with hate. He could see the skin shifting on her face. It was as if all her hate was threatening to boil up and out of her. "She's mine!" she swore at him. "You owe me her."  
  
Clark looked at her and then knew what he had to do. Tina was much stronger than a normal person, but she wasn't any faster. He pulled her back before she could react, and punched her hard in the gut. He could feel the air rush out of her as she sagged to her knees. He let go of her arm and turned towards Lex.  
  
"I'm sorry about that, but I have to do this," he said quietly. "I can't let her fight like this."  
  
Lex rushed forwards, grabbing Tina. "What are you going to do?" he asked Clark, looking up at him.  
  
"What I have to do to save them both," he said heading towards the stairs.  
  
Lex stared after him as he hurried downstairs. He hesitated, looking down at Tina. She was curled up on the floor, gasping and trying to breath. He snarled in frustration and then grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. Without his crutches, every step was agony, but he gritted his teeth and went on. Supporting her, he started towards the stairs.  
  
The main lobby was an inferno by the time Clark entered. Only by staring around with his x-ray vision could he see anything through the smoke. He stepped through the fire unconcerned about the flames or intense temperature. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finished his sweep of the room, no one was there. But if they weren't here, then where were they?  
  
He spun around as he heard a pounding on the outside door. The soilders he'd seen before were trying to get in. At least the fire would keep them out for a while, he thought and turned back. Then he noticed the open elevator door and hurried towards it, staring down. He could see the elevator car at the bottom of the shaft. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the cab. Clark didn't need to guess to know who had made it. He stepped into the shaft and fell towards the car below. He only hoped he wasn't too late.  
  
"Keep going!" Lana shouted at them, thrusting Pete and Chloe forwards. Chloe almost stumbled as she supported Pete. He was bleeding badly now and was starting to slip and out of consciousness. Lana didn't seem to care however, she held a gun on them and walked behind them, shoving them forwards if they started to slow down.  
  
They heard a crashing sound behind them and Lana spun around. Chloe stopped as well. "Joseph," she muttered, looking back.  
  
"He never learns," Lana snarled and prodded her to move again. Chloe grunted and staggered forwards. The hallway they were following came to a T junction and she waited, breathing heavily.  
  
"To the left," Pete rasped, his face glistening with sweat. "It's not far. There's a door and then another door. Go through that..." Lana nodded and motioned them to go with the barrel of the gun. They hurried down the hall. Chloe tried to glance over her shoulder, hoping to see Joseph looming behind them, but there was nothing. She had to wonder how much good it would do when Lana had the meteor rock with her.  
  
"This is it," Lana suddenly said, and Chloe staggered to a stop as the hallway came to an end abruptly. She fell to her knees, gasping, as Lana rushed past her, dropping her bag on the ground. She tried the door a few times and then shouldered it roughly. Then she stepped back and raised her gun. Chloe scrambled away as Lana blew the handle off the door. "Not yet!" Lana said and Chloe winced as she felt herself yanked back by her hair. Lana had her hand wrapped around Chloe's long blonde hair and used it to pull her to her feet. "Inside," she said, shoving her in. Pete lay by the door, staring dully at them as they left him.  
  
The room inside was stark and bare; it was evidently some kind of unused storage area. There was a door at the other end of the room though and it was that Lana was fixed on. She marched Chloe across the room and kicked in the other door.  
  
They both stopped in the doorway. A wavering light bathed over them and the rest of the room, flickering and moving back and forth like it was dancing off water. A single gurney was positioned in the middle of the room and on it was the source of all the light. A woman was lying there on her back, with a white cloth draped over her. Her red hair spilled over the end of the gurney, trailing towards the floor.  
  
Chloe took a hesitant step inside, but cried out as Lana jerked her back roughly. She could feel her eyes tear up as she jumped back. "Not you," Lana hissed and pushed her down to the floor. She let go of her hair and took a step towards the Clark's mother.  
  
Lex staggered back from the heat of the flames as he pulled Tina down to the lobby. He lowered her to the floor and grabbed a fire extinguisher from the side wall. He pressed the trigger and started to fight the blaze, looking around for anyone. After a few moments he gave both up as useless. He stared around fruitlessly, and then through a gap in the smoke he saw the open elevator shaft. Gritting his teeth, Lex raised the can again and started to clear a path towards the elevator.  
  
Lana stepped towards Clark's mother, her hand stretched out tentatively. Suddenly the light that had been emanating from her flickered and vanished. There was a nervous moment as they waited, but nothing seemed to happen. Lana swallowed and moved her hand closer.  
  
Suddenly they heard a door crash open behind them. Lana hesitated, her face torn, but then she spun around and grabbed Chloe again, pulling her to her feet. Chloe tried to struggle, but Lana shoved the barrel of the gun into her side and fixed her with a glare. She started towards the other room, pushing Chloe with her.  
  
Chloe's heart jumped as she saw Joseph standing in the door to the hallway, but then her elation started to die. He was gripping the sides of the doorway with both hands, apparently struggling to remain standing. His face was pale and flushed, but the hateful gaze he fixed Lana with was steady enough.  
  
"I figured it was you," Lana muttered, staring back at him. "We've done this enough times for you to know how it's going to end. Back off now..."  
  
"Something's different this time," Joseph told her. He glanced downwards and Chloe saw Lana's bag lying at his feet where she had dropped it before. The meteor rock was glowing inside. She felt Lana stiffen as Joseph stepped over it and then kicked the bag backwards, sending it flying down the hallway. He straightened and his weakness seemed to leave him. As he took a step into the room, Lana took a step back.  
  
"Come any closer and I'll kill her!" Chloe felt the gun jam painfully into her side and she winced. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't fight back; Lana's grip on her was too strong. She stared at Joseph as he stood there, seeming to consider things. He looked at Chloe and then at Lana. The look in his eye was impossible to discern. Chloe swallowed and waited.  
  
Clark took it all in from down the hallway. Joseph was still standing there, thinking things over, but there was no way Clark could trust him to make the right decisions. There were too many lives at risk. "NO!" he called out, making them all stop. He walked out of the shadows, his eyes going from Joseph to Chloe and then finally to Lana. She stared back at him, her eyes wide and fearful. She had stared Joseph down without flinching, but something about Clark seemed to terrify her. Somewhere deep down, Clark thought he knew what it was, and that it was their only hope.  
  
"Don't interfere," Joseph snarled at him. He didn't take his eyes off Lana. "I can handle this."  
  
Clark ignored him and walked past his brother. Lana stiffened up and drew Chloe back, the gun ready. "Clark, what are you doing?" Chloe gasped out, Lana's hand wrapped around her neck. Clark ignored her as well, looking only at Lana. He stared at her, feeling no anger, but rather disappointment and pity. He knew what she had done, and that there was no going back from that, but he still couldn't hate her. The reason for it, he realized was simple enough. It was standing right behind him after all.  
  
"What are you doing? Get out of the way." Joseph said angrily. Clark heard him start forwards, and he turned, putting himself solidly in between the girls and his brother. Joseph stopped dead, his face full of surprise.  
  
"Lana," Clark said over his shoulder. "You can let Chloe go now. My mother's waiting for you." He could hear the twin gasps behind him. Then in the doorway, he saw Lex appear, carrying Tina. With foreboding he saw that she was conscious again.  
  
"What?" Joseph said, his face still dumbly surprised.  
  
"I won't let you hurt her," Clark said quietly. "I can't."  
  
"NO!" Tina rasped out, her face anguished. "Don't you know what she did?" Clark nodded slowly and she screamed. The skin on her face was practically boiling now, consumed with rage. "She killed Whitney! She killed him and I'll kill her." She shoved Lex aside and seemed to tense up, ready to hurl herself at him.  
  
"Do you know why I never told you how I know you?" Clark snapped the question at her. She paused, staring at him, her fingers open hungrily. "It's because the Tina Greer I knew is dead. She was a murderer and she chose in the end to die rather than except my help. I won't let you go down that path. I'm sorry about Whitney, but I won't."  
  
"Clark..." Lex said quietly, staring at him.  
  
Tina stared at him dumbly, the skin on her face starting to come to a halt. Slowly she looked behind him to Lana. She started to shake, some battle waging within her. Tears were pouring out of her eyes and her hands shook violently. Clark remained where he was though, and did not look away. At last, she seemed to crumble in on herself and she fell to the floor, sobbing.  
  
"No!" Joseph snarled, his face dark with rage. The air in front of his eye was shimmering as he stared his brother down. "I won't let you do this! I won't let you!"  
  
"I can't let you," Clark replied. They faced each other, so different now. Joseph's face was mottled with rage and hate, while Clark's was calmly set. It seemed almost impossible that they were brothers, but they were. Clark could never forget that. If not for some trick of the weather, or of God, or of fate, it might have been him standing there. If it not for a mother's love, he might never have been standing here.  
  
With a strangled, animal cry, something in Joseph seemed to snap and he threw himself at Clark. Almost at the same moment, Clark sprang forwards. They collided in mid-air with a deafening impact.  
  
Lana had dropped Chloe at the first sign of Joseph's attack. She pushed the girl down and ran back inside the other room as fast as she could. Clark's mother was still lying there sedately, as still as a corpse. Lana stared at her desperately and then looked back towards the door. She could feel the room shaking from the struggle just outside it. Then she stiffened as she felt a hand close around her wrist. She turned back and looked into a pair of eyes that seemed to extend into infinity.  
  
It was not a fight in any sense of the word. It was too primal for that. Joseph seemed too enraged to think of throwing a punch and Clark would not hit his brother. Instead each clasped the other by the throat, trying to make them submit. They stumbled forwards and backwards, shoving themselves through walls as they struggled.  
  
It was not just physical either; memories and emotions flickered from one to the other across the bridge they had formed. All the pain that they had ever experienced in their lifetime was flickering between them. They both screamed as countless needles and knives pierced their skin and writhed as the meteor rocks' radiation burned them. There was heartache and loneliness, despair, and grief, all the darker feelings they'd ever had. They screamed together in mental and physical agony.  
  
Through the pain, Clark felt Joseph's fingers start to slip. His grip was definitely loosening. Joseph tried to let go and get away, but Clark grabbed his arms and held on. As they both writhed in pain, Clark started to understand something. He could bear the pain far better than Joseph because he had something else to hold onto. He had his family and his friends, here and back home. He could feel them in his head, warm and comforting. Joseph didn't have that. For him, those memories were frighteningly unfamiliar and alien. He had had nothing like that in his life, and without that, Clark thought, he really had nothing.  
  
Clark let go of his arms and Joseph collapsed to the floor. He was trembling violently, and when he raised his head, Clark was a little surprised to see tears coming from his eye. "How can you bear it?" he asked, his voice quavering.  
  
He looked at him wearily. "Because I don't just have pain to remember. Maybe you'll understand that someday." Joseph stared at him and then seemed to sob. He curled up in a ball and stayed there, shaking. Clark looked at him pityingly and then turned towards the door. Chloe was on the floor, breathing heavily and watching him with awed eyes. He continued past her to stand in the doorway.  
  
His mother lay quietly in the room before him. She was alone; there was no sign of Lana. 


	42. Choice

Chapter 41  
  
Chloe and Lex found some strips of cloth and managed to bandage off Pete's leg in time. He was very weak and unsteady, but he stood with Tina's help. She had come forwards to support him without being asked to. No one had said anything to her just yet, perhaps unsure of what to say. She stood there with her head bowed and Pete's arm over her shoulders, not looking at anyone.  
  
Joseph was sitting in the corner, his head also bowed. No one had spoken to him either. It was silent for a long time as they all stood there, looking at Clark. He hadn't moved from the doorway and was still gazing in on his mother's room. Finally, Lex cleared his throat.  
  
"I guess it's time," he said somberly. Clark glanced back and nodded. He turned to look at them, his face tired and drawn, and also sad. They seemed to feel no different than he did.  
  
Clark looked at Pete first, his eyes going towards his wounded leg. Pete shrugged. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice a little weak. "You know, I've been doing this before you came here. It's not the first time I've been shot before." Clark smiled and looked at Tina. He started to say something, but she flinched away from him. Pete shook his head. "We'll help her," he promised. "She won't be alone." His hand tightened over her shoulder as he said it, which made Clark feel hopeful.  
  
Moving away from them, he looked at Lex, who gave him a wry smile. "Well, you torched my father's company, destroyed everything the Luthor name represented, and helped make me a wanted man," he stated. Then he thrust out his hand. "Thank you, Clark."  
  
Clark ignored his hand and instead pulled Lex into a hug. Lex seemed surprised, but then grinned and hugged him back. "What are you going to do now?" Clark asked him.  
  
Lex shrugged and smiled. "You know what; I don't have the slightest idea. And you don't know how relieved that makes me feel."  
  
He smiled at him. "Why don't you try and make the Luthor name mean something else?" he suggested. Lex laughed with him for a moment.  
  
"Are you also going to keep that look?" Clark smiled, glancing at his shaved head. Lex made an amused face as he rubbed his head with one hand.  
  
"Maybe, I will. I like it." Clark shook his head and laughed gain.  
  
He stopped laughing as he looked down at his brother though. Joseph kept his head down, and didn't return his gaze though. "Do you know why I came here?" Clark asked him finally. Joseph didn't answer. Lowering himself to his knees, Clark looked at his brother and waited.  
  
"Why?" he responded at last.  
  
"She brought me here to save you. She didn't care what happened to herself, but she wanted you to be safe. And happy. She didn't want you to become a monster."  
  
Joseph's voice was a whisper. "Why does she care?"  
  
Before he could react, Clark reached over and touched his hand. Joseph started to flinch away instinctually, but he stopped as warmth, not pain rushed over him. Somehow, Clark reached through his mind and found all the loving thoughts and memories he had of his family and friends, and he reached across their bond to share them with Joseph. Wonder slowly crept across his face as he experienced them for the first time. It was no different for Clark as he looked at them again with new eyes.  
  
"Do you remember the gift the Tin Man asked for?" Clark asked his brother quietly. "I can't give it to you, but I can share a little of mine with you." Tenderly, he let go and stood up. Joseph was still staring off into the distance, his expression awed. "I hope it's enough."  
  
"If that makes me the Scarecrow you've got another thing coming," Chloe said behind him. "And if you call me the Cowardly Lion, I'll kick you ass." She was trying to make her voice sound tough and confident, and was failing miserably. Clark looked at her and saw that she was near to tears.  
  
"Chloe, I..." he tried to say, but she rushed into his arms before he could finish. She kissed him long and passionately, seeming to let everything she had felt for him rush out of her. Clark kissed her back just as soundly. Only when she pulled back and brushed at his face did he realize that he was crying as well.  
  
"We've done this before," she laughed, still choked up. "And it's going to end up the same way, huh?" He couldn't say yes, but she saw it in his face. She looked away with a pained smile. "Boy, you really changed me, didn't you? Too bad there's not a character who got a conscience, huh?"  
  
"You always had one," he told her.  
  
"Yeah, but I never really listened to it." She looked at him sadly and closed her eyes for a moment. "I'll miss you," she said simply.  
  
"I'll never forget any of you," he said, looking at each of them again.  
  
"If you're ever here again," Lex started and then nodded to himself, "I'll know something is very wrong."  
  
"I know what you're trying to say," Clark told him. He looked at Chloe one final time and then he turned back towards the doorway. He took a breath and stepped through it.  
  
Behind him, Chloe took a tentative few steps towards the door, but Lex took her hand and shook his head.  
  
His mother was watching him as he entered. Her eyes were warm and pleased. He went to her side and looked back at her, but a little conflicted. He glanced behind him and then asked, "Will they be okay? All of them?"  
  
"Even I don't know that," she said quietly. "You changed much by coming here, whether for the good or worse, I can't say, but I can say that they are better."  
  
He nodded, feeling a little better. "And Lana?"  
  
"She still needs your help," his mother told him. Her voice was very weak, little more than a whisper, but the hand that enclosed over his own was firm enough. He looked into her eyes as felt some great power flowing over them both. His mother looked back at him and whispered, "I am very proud of you, my son." Then, with those words still lingering in his ears, he was gone.  
  
The door opened slowly, and Lex looked in. Clark's mother lay on the gurney alone. Her hand hung limply over the edge. Lex sighed as he looked at her. She was gone. Somberly, they all entered in to look at her, Joseph coming last. He stared at her quietly, his one eye sad and confused. Then before anyone could stop him, he crossed over to her side and touched her face gently. Then he tenderly closed her eyes and picked her up. She hung loosely in his arms as he walked towards the door. Then with the air of a funeral cortege, everyone followed after him.  
  
Clark opened his eyes slowly and he was home. Somehow, he knew that instinctually. He could feel it in the air just as sure as he could hear the echoes of his mother's last words to him. He turned around and saw that it was still night, wherever he was, not long before morning. The eastern edge of the sky was touched with dim, golden light. As he swept the sky, he saw a familiar tree line and when he turned around, he wasn't surprised by what else he saw.  
  
He was standing just outside the gate to the Smallville Cemetery. Graves and monuments traced out rows in the misty pre-morning. He stood still for a moment, staring at the iron gates, and then he heard a moaning sob drift through the gravestones. Running as fast as he could, he followed it, and again, he wasn't surprised to where it took him. He had visited this cemetery many times, and most of his visits had been to the set of graves he found himself in front of.  
  
Lana was kneeling before the graves of her parents, groaning with despair. Her hand was still clenched around the gun she'd carried over with her. Clark watched her trying to stay silent, but somehow, or maybe through some instinct drilled into her, Lana spun around, staring at him.  
  
Her eyes were red and hopeless looking, her uniform was torn and dirty. She seemed like such a desperate thing, so utterly alone. He looked at her quietly as she trained the gun on him.  
  
"This is your world, isn't it?" she asked her voice agonized. He nodded. "She sent me here," Lana moaned. "Of all the places, why did she send me here?"  
  
"I don't know," he said truthfully. "It was up to her."  
  
"She could have sent me to somewhere where my parents hadn't died!" she screamed at him, still holding the gun towards him, perhaps even knowing what a pointless thing it was to do. "Somewhere where I was dead. I could have just stepped in then, it would have all been so perfect."  
  
"She could have," he said quietly.  
  
"Why didn't she?!" Lana yelled. "Why didn't she?! I could have been happy!"  
  
"Maybe because that wouldn't be your life. That would just be a lie, some other Lana's life. You already have yours."  
  
"What if I don't want mine?" she asked dreadfully. "I've killed people. I've done terrible things." She stopped and stared at him. "I don't want to be this way." Slowly she brought the gun up and put it to her head, her eyes locked hopelessly on his.  
  
Her finger was wrapped tightly around the trigger. If he took a step towards her, he was sure that she would fire. "Lana, don't. Please."  
  
"No!" she warned him in a shaking voice. "Don't do that. Don't do that. I killed your friend. You shouldn't say that."  
  
"You can't do this to yourself," he pleaded with her.  
  
"Why shouldn't I?"  
  
He looked at her and then looked down at his feet. When he looked up, he stared straight into her eyes. "Because if you kill yourself I might as well follow straight after you."  
  
"I've seen a lot of things in the past few days," he said quietly. "I've learned a lot of things. I've seen another world where people I thought I knew were different, different because of... I don't know. Maybe because of me, maybe because of fate, or just chance." He stared into her eyes. "Not all of those people were nice. I wasn't nice, the me on the other side. And it made me realize something; I could have been like that, very easily. I could have been just like him, and that terrifies me."  
  
"It made me think, why are we who we are? Is it fate, is it someone or something who decides for us. Is it just chance? Is who we are just decided by random events? A butterfly flaps its wings in Tokyo and a murderer is born instead of a saint in New York?" He shook his head. "If that's true, if that's how the world works, then I reject it."  
  
"I think we decide for ourselves, that we have that power. Maybe we can't change what happens around us, but at least maybe we can change. We can change; we have to be able to change. I have to believe that, or I might as well give up now." He looked at her sadly. "And so I have to believe that you can change."  
  
"No," she stammered. The hand holding the gun started to shake as she stared at him.  
  
"You have to change, Lana. I have to believe that you can, because if I can't then there's no hope for my brother, or for any of us in the long run."  
  
"No, no. Don't ask me that. Please, don't," she stammered at him.  
  
"You have to show me that there's hope, Lana. Only you can do show me that. I need to know that we can change. Please."  
  
Her face was deathly pale as she stared at him. "I can't. Please, that's too hard. You can't ask that."  
  
"I never said it would be easy," he told her. "And maybe you don't deserve easy. I know it won't be easy, I know it will be painful, but you're just going to have to do it. You owe it to me, to Whitney, to everyone you hurt before. Killing yourself won't make anything better."  
  
Lana's hand shook as she held up the gun. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "Why can't you just leave me alone? I did nothing but try and hurt you and your friends. Why are you still here?"  
  
Clark blinked and looked at her. "You've been alone all your life, you want to be alone even now?" She stared at him. "And I won't abandon the people I love, Lana. I'll help you. I'll be there for you."  
  
"No!" she yelled and backed away. Her face was deathly white and she seemed to be having trouble breathing. "I can't think, stop this. Get away from me!"  
  
"You're life isn't decided for you, Lana. Who you are isn't set in stone. You can change it, I know you can!"  
  
"No, this is too much! Get away from me!" She took another step back and hit her parents' gravestones. The gun was still pressed against the side of her head.  
  
"Lana, my mother wanted me to save someone along with my brother. I think that person is you. Please, Lana. Show me. Show me that you can." He put out his hand slowly and waited. She stared back at him, her face nearly overcome. For a frozen, unspoken moment, there was complete silence, and then with a sob, Lana fell to her knees, the gun tumbling out of her hand. Clark stepped forwards and comforted her as she sobbed out all the anguish and hate left in her. Behind him, the sun was starting to peak over the horizon as a new day started to dawn. 


	43. Two Epilogues: There

Two Epilogues  
  
There  
  
They presented the body to Chloe's uncle outside the hospital. All of his troops were arranged behind him in perfect formation. He took it formally, and had a special guard of soldiers ready to carry her into a nearby helicopter with all the dignity they could manage. Lex stood in the front of their group with Pete and Tina close behind him. Chloe trailed in the rear, with Joseph following after her. He seemed quiet and withdrawn. Whatever Clark had shared with him had clearly unsettled him and he appeared to be doing some serious thinking.  
  
As they loaded the body into the helicopter, Lex asked, "Where will you take her?"  
  
"Research facility, most like," General Lane responded.  
  
"You won't learn anything from her. My father's people never could."  
  
"I don't doubt it, but it will keep them occupied for a while."  
  
Lex smiled and nodded. "That she will. Well, what about the rest of us? What other orders do you have?"  
  
"I'm supposed to arrest any LuthorCorp employees that I see on sight," he admitted slowly.  
  
"A wise decision," Lex said. "What about LexCorp employees?"  
  
General Lane fixed him with a suspicious look. He wasn't the only one. "What in the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"LexCorp. It's an emerging company," he said with a straight face. "Very small at the moment. Only a handful of employees that I know of."  
  
"And I wonder who's the head of it," Lane growled.  
  
"Well it does have my name attached to it."  
  
"Lex, if you think a little technicality is going to stop any of this..."  
  
"Of course not, but it makes a nice cover story," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small disk, "for this."  
  
Lane eyed the disk like it was a venomous snake. "What are you trying to pull here, boy?"  
  
"Show it to your bosses and then tell them about LexCorp. I'm sure they'll be very interested at that point." He smiled disingenuously at the General and slipped the disk into his shirt pocket. Chloe fought back a laugh as she saw her uncle turn three shades of red. Finally, he shook his head and stalked off, heading towards the helicopters.  
  
"Lex, what was on that?" Pete asked slowly as soon as Lane was out of earshot.  
  
"You remember when I said I got rid of all of my father's secrets?" he asked, grinning broadly.  
  
"Oh, you didn't!" Chloe laughed, grinning broadly.  
  
"Well, I got rid of most of them. I think that's the most anyone could expect me to do. Having a little insurance is always a good thing after all."  
  
"What about this LexCorp?" Pete asked again. "Are you serious about all of this?"  
  
Lex looked up, a funny look coming over his face. He rubbed his shaved head for a moment, apparently thinking of what to say. "I think I am. I want to try what Clark suggested. And besides, I'm still rich, aren't I? What else am I going do with all that money?"  
  
"And those employees you mentioned?" Chloe asked. "They wouldn't be..."  
  
"Chloe," he said expansively, "welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. I can promise you a six figure salary and full benefits for starters. Don't worry about any responsibilities. We'll figure out something for you to do eventually." She laughed and clapped her hands. Lex smiled at her and then looked over her shoulder.  
  
Joseph was standing apart from them, looking out as the sun started to rise. He seemed confused and lost as he stared at it. He noticed them looking and shrugged, going back to studying the sunrise. "I've never seen a real one," he said quietly.  
  
Lex nodded and smiled gently at him. "Joseph, how would you like to stay with us for a while?" he asked. "We can help you get used to this world, to get caught up on what you missed."  
  
Joseph turned and stared at it, his one eye wide with surprise. "I don't know..." he said quietly, clearly put off by the offer.  
  
"I want to help you, Joseph. I owe you a great deal, after all. A great deal," his voice trailed off as Lex looked at him. "If you'd let me, I'd like to start making it up to you."  
  
Joseph hesitated, at a loss for words. "Say yes, you big idiot," Chloe told him, rolling her eyes. He looked at her and then shrugged and nodded.  
  
"Welcome to the team," Lex said quietly as he reached out and shook his hand. Joseph looked around at them and then started to smile hesitantly. For some reason, that seemed to Chloe like the perfect way to start the morning. 


	44. Two Epilogues: Here

Here  
  
Lana had just finished cleaning the room over the Talon and as she came downstairs, she was surprised to see that she had a customer. Someone was standing at the bar with their back to her. "Hello!" she called as she came down the stairs. "We don't usually get customers in this early! What can I get for you?"  
  
The figure seemed to stiffen and was silent for a moment. Lana frowned a little as she moved around the counter. Just as she was about to see them, the figure turned abruptly and kept their back to her. Whoever it was, they were wearing a coat with the hood pulled up over their face. "Are you okay?" Lana asked carefully.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," a girl's voice answered. She sounded nervous, and there was something about her voice that sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on what.  
  
"It's a nice place you have here," the girl said, gesturing around the room. "It's just like I remember it."  
  
"Thanks, it took a lot of work." She frowned and asked, "You saw the Talon before?"  
  
"When I was young. My parents used to take me here."  
  
"Really?" Lana laughed. "Mine too. Maybe we might have seen each other there?"  
  
"Maybe," she said quietly. "My parents stopped taking me though. Something happened."  
  
"Oh, what?" Lana asked curiously.  
  
"They died." She said it calmly and simply.  
  
"Oh, geez, I am so sorry," Lana sputtered, feeling herself go red.  
  
"It happened a long time ago," the girl told her. "I don't really remember them that well anymore."  
  
"My parents died too," Lana told her quietly.  
  
"How do you deal with it?" the girl asked.  
  
"I don't know, as well as I can," she replied. "I think about them everyday, but I try not to let myself dwell on it too much. It helps if I remind myself what they'd want for me; to spend all day crying about them or to move on and be happy."  
  
"That sounds good," the girl said.  
  
"It's not as easy as it sounds," Lana told her. She leaned over the counter, trying to get a glimpse of her face, but the girl started towards the door.  
  
"I have to get going," she said in a rush as she left.  
  
"We're always open if you want to come again!" Lana called after her. Maybe it was her imagination, but the girl seemed to pause slightly at that, but then she was out the door, leaving it to swing shut behind her. Lana sighed and started to tidy up behind the counter. As she did, she saw that someone had taken down the photo she'd placed up on the wall. It was the one with Clark, Pete, Chloe and herself in it. She touched it lightly, and then looked up, wondering.  
  
"My mom said you went into town today," Clark said quietly, watching Lana eat. They were sitting in the barn in the upper loft. At first, his parents hadn't known what to think of his story when he had arrived home, and it was safe to say that Clark's parents were used to the unusual. It had taken a lot of explaining, and a little help from Lana, to get them to accept it. In true Kent fashion, they'd offered Lana a place to stay in the house, but she'd preferred to sleep in the barn. She even insisted on taking her meals out there.  
  
"No one saw me," she said quietly, not looking up from her dinner.  
  
Clark looked at her and then nodded. "I guess you can be pretty stealthy when you want to be, huh?" He hoped that she'd laugh at that, but she didn't, so he plowed on. "So how are you feeling?"  
  
"A little better, I think," she said between bites. She ate mechanically, apparently occupied with something else.  
  
"That's good," Clark smiled, trying to be enthusiastic. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, and dug an envelope out of his pocket. "I sent a letter to a ... friend of mine about you." Lana's head jerked up, but he motioned for her to relax. "Don't worry; he's used to keeping secrets. And he's pretty useful to."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"Well, he arranged it for you to get a new identity. Anyone you want. He sent some of the things over here and left you a number to call him so you could finalize everything. You have to decide what you're going to call yourself and everything. He also said he'd get you some money to live on."  
  
"He didn't need to do that," she said quietly.  
  
"Hey, Bruce is rich, and I think something about you made him want to help."  
  
She considered that as she took the envelope from his hands. "A new identity," she said, considering it.  
  
"Well," he said a little uncomfortably, "you can't really be Lana Lang anymore."  
  
"And I can't stay in Smallville," she told him.  
  
"No, you can. We'll figure something out," he promised her. "You can dye your hair, change your name." She started to shake her head, but he went on over her. "No, you can. Look I promised you I'd stick with you and I mean that. I will."  
  
"Clark." He stopped and looked at her. It was the first time she had called him by his name. "Clark, I can't stay in Smallville. You know I can't."  
  
"But I promised you," he started to say, but she stopped him again.  
  
"I know, and thank you, but I can't stay here. My whole life has been wrapped up in this place." She looked down at her lap. "Too much of my life has been in this place."  
  
"When I went out this morning, I saw a lot of things are different here, and a lot isn't. I can still see it, my home, my past. Everywhere I look, I just see pieces of it. I saw the street where your ship came down on, I saw Whitney's house..." her voice faltered. "I saw where the lab would have been." As Clark listened to her he saw tears start to fall from her face.  
  
"I can't live here," Lana said quietly. "I can't stay here, not as long as I can still see all of those things. I need to leave and find someplace else. Some place where they've never heard of Smallville."  
  
Clark opened his mouth to argue with her, but the look she gave him was so pleading and desperate that all he could do was nod sadly. "How long are you going to stay?"  
  
She picked up her fork and started to push the remains of her meal around on her plate. "I won't be here come morning. Let's just leave it like that."  
  
"I can't even say goodbye to you?" he asked.  
  
"Please. I just want to fade away and be forgotten," she said quietly.  
  
"That's never going to happen."  
  
"It might be better if it did," she told him. Then she took a breath and looked at him. "Clark, don't come after me. Don't come looking for me. Maybe I'll be ready to see you someday, but let me decide that, all right?"  
  
He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking it over. "If you think so," he said slowly. "Just remember that if things get bad, you can always come back here."  
  
She nodded slowly, and then for the first time, he thought he saw a whimsical smile come over her. "You'd probably just love that, would you? Having two Lana Langs around? Just like a man."  
  
"Lana!" Clark gasped, a little shocked.  
  
She smiled a little broader, looking at him. "You are more special than you know," she said quietly. "I'll never forget you."  
  
The next morning, true to her word, the barn was empty and Lana was gone. Clark stood in the doorway for a while, looking around aimlessly and then walked to the end of the driveway. Standing at the edge of the road he looked out, but even his eyes couldn't find her. He imagined her for a moment, walking down the highway, a large bag on her back, a smile growing on her face as she took every step into the great unknown world set in front of her. He hoped that she would drop him a line every now and then. He hoped that she would keep smiling.  
  
Clark walked slowly back to the house. Inside, he could smell his mother's scrambled eggs and bacon, warming in the pan. He heard his father's chair scrape across the floor and their soft voices talking together. He smiled to himself as he went inside. This seemed to him the best way to start out a brand new day.  
  
The End 


End file.
